Of Spilled Ink and Crumpled Parchment
by MercuryGoddess
Summary: With Voldemort defeated just the previous year, Harry Potter has the chance to focus on his true passion - writing novels. The content is, of course, for mature audiences only, but what does that have to do with Draco Malfoy? Slash of the HPDM variety!
1. The Secular Ramblings of a Lustful Gryff

**Title: **Of Spilled Ink and Crumpled Parchment

**Author**: MercuryGoddess

**Category:** Romance, Humor

**Pairings:** Draco/Harry, some Draco/Blaise moments, Hermione/Pansy & Blaise/Ron.

**Rating: **R/M - language and sexual content

**Summary:** With Voldemort defeated just the previous year, Harry Potter has the chance to focus on his true passion - writing novels. The content is, of course, for mature audiences only, but what does that have to do with Draco Malfoy? Slash of the HPDM variety!

**Disclaimer/Warning: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note:** I got the idea from one of my Kingdom Hearts stories, _Self Control_. Enjoy!

**Chapter One - The Secular Ramblings of a Lustful Gryffindor**

_---thrust deep inside of him again and again and it was wonderful; such a moment of completion couldn't be wrong, no matter what his so called family said, no matter what society said. _

_Nothing this beautiful could be wrong._

_Tears - more so from joy than pain - trickled down from Heath's tanned cheeks, and as David slid from inside of him, he wrapped his arms around the slightly bigger man and sealed their lips with a passionate kiss._

_The End_

Harry smiled brightly, setting down his quill and screwing the cap on his inkpot. With a yelp of victory, he leaped from his seat to do his patented 'happy dance;' a quick gyrate of slender hips and a seductive shake of lean, but muscled shoulders. However, it was cut short by Seamus and Dean shifting in their beds to get more comfortable. He guessed it to be around 2:30 a.m., but from his recent accomplishment, he wasn't in the slightest tired. One could almost call him hyper - his emerald eyes shined brightly in the darkness, his body swayed in constant movement from the excess energy...

But he wasn't hyper. _Ecstatic_ would be a word more fit to describe him.

_Sweet, Surrendering Seduction _had been the first novel he attempted to write after the defeat of Voldemort in the middle of sixth year. It was his best-kept secret; not even Ron or Hermione had a clue about his obsession with writing until this year.

Of course, the fact that they were adult books wasn't the only reason why he avoided telling them of the hobby.

Anyways, sixth year was grueling in its work, and overall stressful in its events. Turned out that Lucius Malfoy was a traitor and sentenced to death by his fellow Death Eaters, the entire Zabini family spied for the Order, and Voldemort planned to kill him Christmas Day. It was too much for him; he needed a pain free, harmless stress-reliever to quell his dark thoughts and to just be Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Friggin'-Tool.

At first, it was a journal - diary - to write down visions, dreams, events, and things of that sort. But after a while he had grown to hate it. What was the point if you didn't show anyone? You know what happened so why write it down to remind you? Journals were the stupidest things Muggles created.

Then it became short stories; stories of a fantasy world (more so than the wizarding world) where he'd be happy to live. Fantasy lead to action/adventure, which lead to romance...

Which lead to...gay erotica.

He'd been writing his novel ever since.

And now, just shy from a full year, he had finished the 870-page book. He had poured blood, sweat, tears, and semen into that book, and it was finally done! He had finished his first full-length novel; he couldn't have asked for a better Beginning-Seventh-Year-And-The-Rest-Of-Life present.

Packing up his stuff to place it in what he deemed his 'Writing Trunk,' Harry briefly eyed the other strewn pieces of parchment and quills with amusement. They were most likely his old stories, and short, choppy notes from when he got a stroke of genius. He also deducted them being from sixth year.

A particular piece of parchment caught his eyes after his scan of the trunk. It was the only piece crumpled and half buried beneath the rest - something suspicious in itself - with deep green ink shimmering in the moonlight pouring from the nearby window. With a sense of foreboding and against better judgment, he picked the wad of parchment up, his happy mood sobering. He opened it.

_Late Night Stroll_

_There was stillness in the air._

_Not of the ominous sort, no...but the atmosphere resembled that of the infirmary waiting room. Some news was going to be told about the person laying in the hospital bed, but one didn't know - was it good news? Was it bad news? Was the person waiting going to be told that their friend/family/lover was so bad that magic couldn't even save them?_

_That was the kind of waiting presence lingering in the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at midnight. For what exactly, he was not sure, and since the gruesome battle with Voldemort just weeks before, he had been able to detect when something life changing would come and disrupt his life routine._

_And as he, Harry Potter, glided soundlessly down the ancient hallways - without his invisibility cloak, mind you - he felt it wash over his senses once more. _

_The presence of another._

_He withdrew his wand surreptitiously as well as scanning over the area in front of him. He was only a staircase away from the Gryffindor Tower. The person waiting in the shadows just shy of his left side must be persistent. Testing them, he took another few steps forward, only to feel the shadow mimic his move. "Come out," he hissed at the still form beside him. Emerald eyes flashed with annoyance, not hidden behind rounded spectacles. "Stop creeping along in the ruddy shadows!"_

_There was no hesitation in the graceful movement of the shadowed form in front of him. With a whispered "Lumos," the figure was washed a glow from the spark ignited at the end of his wand, illuminating lust-filled silver eyes and immaculate ear-length blonde hair. Harry stumbled backwards from the sheer power of the spell, light circles dancing in front of his eyes, before his vision cleared and the identity of his follower revealed._

_"B-Bloody hell!"_

_The stumble transformed in to a flat-out fall, and he hit the cold stone floor hard. A warm, delicious weight settled on his prone form almost immediately, and the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy raked over his body like a predator sizing up his prey. "Potter."_

_The name was breath out like a cry from an impending orgasm; Harry shivered from it. "M-Malfoy?"_

_"Mm." Lips captured his then, rough, bruising...a sign of ownership and possession. The force made him start violently - but not in disgust. Oh no, the feeling was the very antithesis. _

_There was no fight for dominance - Draco's tongue thrust into his mouth without so much a thought that the other boy wouldn't like it, and his body pressed fully against the submissive Harry. Running his hand through Draco's silky strands, Harry wrapped a leg around the other's waist, bringing him closer and causing the kiss to deepen. He responded with an equal, if not more, fervor than the other. He had wanted this for some time, always within reach of the sexy Slytherin but never being able to touch/caress/stroke/fondle the boy. He lust for this boy...this ethereal being of taut muscles and angular features...this boy who exuded the power and confidence of a god._

_Draco broke the kiss harshly, making Harry whimper at the loss of contact, and ground down harshly against him. Harry's eyes flew open - seeing as though they closed when he was kissing Draco. "Oh..."_

_The boy above him scoffed with a raised eyebrow. "Just 'oh,' Potter?" _

_He ground down again, twice as hard and half as fast as the first. Harry arched off the floor; his eyes squeezed tightly as he felt himself respond in a very positive way. "Fuck, D-Draco..."_

_Grey eyes glittered in amusement and lust. "That's better," he purred while leaning his head on Harry's neck. He nipped at the exposed flesh. "Segmentum Amboe!"_

_An abrupt wind swept over their entwined bodies, shredding the clothes off their frames, before vanishing as soon as it had come. Without another word, Draco attacked his right nipple and began to suck, bite, and lick it hungrily, all the while rocking against Harry slowly. Hands flew over tanned skin, nails scratching, fingertips skimming over sensitized flesh...it was almost too much. He was on the brink of euphoria - and coming hard - and Draco hadn't even touched him where it showed just how much he was aroused. _

_Holy Merlin, this boy was heaven!_

_A vicious nip around his navel brought the boy from his lust-induced thoughts, and with a shudder from the draftiness of the castle, he realized: he didn't want to have sex on a cold stone floor! "D-Draco?"_

_A growl and a painful nip at his abs was the response._

_"Draco...stop..."_

_"Shut the fuck up, Potter." The command seemed to echo throughout the entire space. "I don't want to talk and neither do you."_

_With a devil incarnate smile, Draco licked the trail of hair leading down to his private areas like a big lollipop, chuckling at the sharp intake of breath and squirming body beneath him. "I'll make sure of that."_

_Taking his time, Draco lowered his head and to--_

Harry stopped reading. He couldn't believe that he had written this. Judging from what was said in the - story? - he had written this sixth year. Turning over the piece of parchment, he found out that himself in sixth year couldn't make his fantasy Draco finish what he started either.

Disturbed, for lack of a better word, Harry slumped to the floor in front of the trunk and stared at the forbidden - sacred - piece of parchment. It was so realistic, so _erotic _and _Malfoyishly seductive _that it made him painfully hard just dwelling on it. He was tempted to finish writing; it would be better than any wank, that's for sure.

But that was the big step, forcing him to acknowledge that he didn't want to only hold his hand and kiss him with chocolates melting on his tongue...

Oh no! Making the Fantasy Draco do that was almost as bad as stating - out loud, mind you - that he was in lust with Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin hottie out to make his school career, and possibly out of school, a living, breathing hell. It was unthinkable. So unthinkable that he had buried away this wretched piece of erotica.

But was it? Plenty of girls, and plenty of guys, had the hots for the sexiest, richest bloke in the entire wizarding world. Would it be that different from the rest of them?

_Of-bloody-course it would, you naive little wanker! You're Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Defeater of Voldemort, the single most wanted STRAIGHT BACHELOR on the market!_

That was another best-kept secret.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to prevent a headache from coming. He had a conversation with himself about this before. Harry plus Malfoy equals tons and tons of twouble. It was just that simple.

_Just grab a bit of his ass and you'll be able to die a happy, slightly sane man._

"Oh, shut up!"

_You know you want to...just reach out, grasp a firm chunk of that succulent meat and--_

"We're not discussing this!"

Realizing 2:30 a.m. turned to 8:30 a.m., Harry dragged himself up off the floor to meet the curious and highly amused blue eyes of one Ron Weasley.

"Talking to yourself, mate?"

Furtively throwing the piece of parchment back into the trunk, Harry watched Ron leap off his bed and face his friend. "I knew you were stark-raving mad at times, but I didn't know it got worse."

"Shut up, Ron," Harry groaned as he shuffled to his bed and buried his face deep into his pillows. "You don't have to remind me of how bad it's gotten."

With a short chuckle, Ron watched as his friend tried in vain to suffocate himself. He kept caving into the urge to breath. "Alright, Harry?"

Harry threw Ron a 'like-hell-I-am' look (the opposite of the look he had when he finished his novel just hours before), but replied nevertheless with a muttered 'fine.' Ron bounced onto his bed. "Let's go, you lazy sod. You've been up here since dinner started yesterday!"

"Wasn't hungry." _Since Malfoy stole my appetite with that fitted silver turtleneck and tight black leather pants that molded to that delectable little as--_

"Please just kill me now, Ron. Strangulation will do fine." He leaned forward and upwards, exposing his neck. "If you wrap them here, I will die faster."

Ron headed towards the door, a lopsided grin adorning his features. "You just need to get shagged, mate."

He ducked at the first curse thrown.

---

To Be Continued…

_Make sure to review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	2. The Inner Torture of an Undeserving Slyt...

**Special Thanks To: Reviewerschibixholic, Talons, Kairi999, MysteryWoman89, Atarii, Kairi099, SwirlingOblivion, Caiden, aznag, Dark Angel's Blue Fire, hiza-chan and SemmaFan!**

HP Fandom Reviewers: ciaran draco, Aurora Enkeli Medeis, terralynn, and SeperatriX!

**Disclaimer/Warning: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note:** In need of a beta. Any volunteers? Chapter Two - Enjoy!

**Chapter Two - The Inner Torture of an Undeserving Slytherin**

It was beautiful outside, he had to admit; the golden rays of the sun hit the lake at the right angle to make the iridescence of the surface sparkle perfectly. Posador quails - the wizard equivalent of a Muggle hummingbird - chirruped musically, all the while drinking greedily from the expansive flowers in the garden, and a gentle breeze soared through the area, making the trees sway as if dancing...

But it was _sickening. _So bloody _tranquil_ and _drenched_ in _goodness_ that the only things missing were a couple of Hug-Me Hufflepuffs and Do-Gooder Gryffindors frolicking in the fields while holding hands and crying over the idea of world peace.

Bah.

He wanted to hurl all over the beautiful scenery just to taint its seeming perfection.

But of course Draco Malfoy didn't vomit on anything willingly no matter how much he wanted it tainted, although the dream from this morning could make him hurl over and over again and just never stop.

It had been the feeling of something wet dragging from his collarbone to his jaw that woke him from his rejuvenating sleep that day, and he had been most grateful for it. The cursed dream had involved his arch-nemesis Harry Potter with a banana in his mouth saying 'Give it to me,' and for some reason, he couldn't get his dream self to snap the _fuck_ out of it. The pleasurable haze clouding his dream self had been too thick, too wrapped around him for him to even understand anything remotely logical.

Like the advice for him to stop ravishing Potter.

Thank Merlin, the wet object caused said dream to stop when he was _giving it to Potter_ over and over and over again.

But the damage was done.

The image of a wanton Potter with silky black locks flayed over crimson silk sheets, emerald eyes aglow with love and longing, writhing and moaning under his gentle touch was etched/burned/branded/tattooed into his mind, and a part of him (the part he disgustingly called his _Hufflepuff_ side) swooned at the delectable sight.

See, Draco was in lust with Harry Potter; and it was fine, dandy, peachy with a side of keen... ever since Harry came back at a stately six foot with a leanly muscled, tanned form, one would have to be bloody insane not to sit up and take notice. Not to mention the boy made scrap metal of his dorky spectacles and got a sexy piercing on the top corner of his right ear.

Gorgeous!

Draco was more than happy to ogle the boy on several occasions.

But then...it took a drastic turn - a downward spiral into what Draco called The Absolute **Forbidden **Territory No Matter How Good Looking The Person Is.

Dreams ever night, daydreams every class, surreptitious stares during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, dressing to look _extra_ sexy to gain his attention - it was ridiculous, and the lack of attention from the leader of the Golden Trio only served to make him bitter, frustrated (of the sexual and regular kind), and downright unbearable.

Well, more so than usual.

Even telling his most trusted comrades, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, didn't help; in fact, as he looked back with 20/20 hindsight, it made it worse!

Putting feelings into words always was a slap of reality.

With it now being seventh year, and his crush on Saint Potter growing exponentially with each passing day, Draco was at his breaking point. He hadn't slept with anyone since this stupid crush thingy started, despite the many offers from fellow classmates. Hell, even Seamus _fucking_ Finnegan wandered over into Slytherin territory to "audition" for the part of Draco's fuck buddy!

And he turned him down, no gag reflex and all!

What the _bleeding hell_ was wrong with him?

Was he in -beep- with Potter!

The thought was as disgusting as the idea of frolicking Hufflepuffs.

_Fucking Potter, _Draco thought with a sneer on his face,_ fucking with everyone's fucking thoughts like a fucking idiot..._

"Draco?"

Draco inwardly smiled, a bit relieved at the intrusion of his dreary thoughts. Not moving from his position adjacent to the lake, Draco replied, "Blaise."

A gentle kiss was dropped to his temple and an arm slung over his shoulders before the handsome chestnut-haired boy came into his line of sight. Questioning hazel eyes bore into irritated silver. "It's 8:00 in the morning on a Saturday. What the hell are you doin' up?"

Letting out a short, humorless laugh, Draco turned his gaze onto the calm waters of the lake. "Couldn't sleep," he informed him in clipped tones. Even though Blaise knew of his plight, it still didn't mean that he wanted to share his feelings like a bloody Hufflepuff.

Blaise removed the arm over Draco's shoulders to cross it with the other across his chest, raising his eyebrow in a decidedly Malfoyish way. Silence reigned supreme a few moments.

"Another Aggravating Ceramist fantasy, right?"

Although a scathing retort for Blaise was on the tip of his tongue, Draco couldn't help but chuckle with amusement at the childhood codename he, Blaise, and Pansy gave Boy Wonder. They must have been nine years old when they first came up with it, and it had been used whenever it was dangerous to say their enemy's name aloud.

Blaise soon joined him in laughter, but still kept an eye on his best friend's expression. He could tell that the half-smile on Draco's face nowhere reached his eyes, and he felt his heart lurch at the sight. Call him a Hufflepuff, but he really did _love_ Draco Malfoy; the boy was witty, loyal, trustworthy to his fellow Slytherin, a leader, and intelligent in every sense of the word. He had poise under pressure, but that quality, and the many other qualities in him, didn't apply to a little thing called love.

And yes, Draco Malfoy, whether he wanted to be a stubborn git about it, was in love with Harry Potter.

Having had the same show-no-emotion training that Draco had, Blaise could recognize what emotions Draco was attempting to hide, especially since it was an emotion he himself was trying to hide from--

"Blaise...?"

Blinking slowly, as if coming from a trance, Blaise focused on the angular face of Draco, cocking his head to the side in questioning. "Yea?"

Draco frowned; he could practically seeing the cogs turning in the other boy's head, but left him alone. He only called out to stop the unblinking stare Blaise had fixed on him.

A companionable silence settled over the pair, for neither really had anything to say to the other. Blaise knew that if he asked Draco what the dream was about, Draco would clam up and say no more than two words to him the rest of the morning, and if Draco asked Blaise what he had been thinking about just moments before, he would get a pensive "_Nothing..."_

Slytherins always did have trouble with emotional communication.

"So you were thinking about him."

Blaise decided to take a chance. The silence was annoying.

Wincing at the know-it-all tone, Draco's eyes narrowed to slits as he hissed, "None of your fucking business, _Zabini_."

It was now Blaise's turn to wince as he watched Draco push himself off the ground and start to head back to the school. Scrambling up and trying to meet the brutally fast pace Draco set, Blaise did the only thing he could to snap Draco out of it: "Be a **Malfoy**, Draco, and go get what you want!"

Draco froze mid-step.

"Pining and _bitching_ over Harry bloody Potter...the bloke is gorgeous and you haven't done anything yet! What happened to the Slytherin Sex God who reigned supreme since he got here? What happened to your I-get-whatever-the-fuck-I-want-whenever-I-want-it-and-you-damn-near-better-give-it-to-me attitude that the Slytherins love and respect?"

Blaise gulped. Being the best friend of Draco Malfoy did have its advantages, but if you pissed him off, you are subjected to the same punishment as everyone else.

And...it appears he pissed him off.

Tiny pebbles leaped from the ground, and blades of grass ripped from the root to circle the spiral of energy surrounding Draco. It took on the color of metallic blue and shimmered brightly as the power steadily increased. Shoulder blade length white gold hair ripped from the confines of an elegant black ribbon and swayed in sync with the waves of energy and wind blowing to the east. Icy silver eyes pierced through frightened hazel.

Blaise knew then that the creators of _Avada Kedavra _got the color completely wrong.

It wasn't emerald green; it was icy silver.

Gods, did he look like the Angel of Death.

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for the life he was sure Draco was going to take with him to hell.

But.

Although not brave in public, Slytherins _never_ backed down from a fellow Slytherin. Well, unless it was Draco Malfoy.

So. Take a deep breath and...here goes.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart limb from limb," Draco said conversationally, his voice husky and taunt with anger.

Blaise shuddered. On second thought...

"You have 20 seconds."

Merlin, he was a god! Why did he break up with him?

Snapping out of his thoughts, Blaise looked in horror as Draco inched his way within five feet of his person, and the energy surrounding increased mercilessly. Thank goodness Slytherins had the ability of guile and cunning because he scrambled up a dangerous plan that would dispel the energy and _maybe_ Draco's anger as well. All he needed now was the courage to do it.

"Five."

Shit.

"Four."

Damn.

"Three."

Bloody hell.

"Two."

Fuck!

"One."

"Because you know I'm telling the truth!"

With that phrase, he launched himself at the unsuspecting boy, latching his lips unto his best friend with all the lust he could muster from the image of the Archangel Draco. The two crashed to the ground, and the energy dispelled with a burst, sending ignited pebbles and blades of grass raining to the ground like confetti. Blaise inwardly smirked - the extra lessons from his dear friend Remus Lupin had served him well. _When a person leaks magic uncontrollably_, the werewolf had said,_ because of strong emotions, the best defense is a shock factor. The shock to their system serves as a catalyst to release the loose reign on the wild magic._

Mental note: kiss Remus Lupin for his wonderful lessons.

Hearing a moan beneath him, Blaise flipped the two so that he straddled him, breaking the kiss to suck on Draco's neck. The boy beneath him began to struggle then. "Blaise...no...stop..."

Blaise, who had Draco's arms pinned above him, stopped to look into Draco's eyes. Shock ran through his form - lust, along with _resignation_, glimmered in Draco's eyes. Blaise swiveled his hips as he grinded downward.

"Fuck," Draco breathed out. This is what he wanted - he wanted to fuck, to run his hands over Blaise's delicious form and kiss the heck outta him, but...

_Harry._

"Stop it, Blaise!"

Too stunned to do anything else, Blaise rolled off the other boy just as Draco was leaning up to cover his face with his hands. The only thing heard was the heavy panting of the two boys, who stared at each other, one in shock, one in weariness.

Realizing too many of his emotions had been shown, Draco let his mask slip back on. "I do not need to shag my best friend in order to get some; I am not that desperate."

Scrambling up off the ground, Draco made his escape while Blaise collapsed from the shock.

---

To Be Continued…

_Those who review are automatically put on a mailing list for updates and the like. Make sure to review and leave your email too!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	3. The Unexpected Meeting in the Legendary ...

**Special Thanks To**: FF Reviewers: Caiden, Rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, lloneke, Faded Glitter, chibixholic, DW Fanatic, PlzNsertSN, Kairi099, threadsofregret, myniephonenix, and Viper-Vegeta!

HP Fandom Reviewers: Aurora Enkeli Medeis, antipyro, tesaswithadollarsign, ciaran draco, Shuga34, and Kittyfinn!

**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note**: Um, about the beta-ing thing, I actually have a close friend who volunteered to look over my chapters for me if I need it, but thank all of you who offered! Here's chapter three - Enjoy!

**Chapter Three - The Unexpected Meeting in the Legendary Honeydukes**

The rest of Saturday morning found Harry Potter lying in his bed with the curtains closed, staring unseeingly at the canopy above it. His thoughts were wrapped around _Late Night Stroll_, the dreaded piece of erotica portraying some of his deepest fantasies. Since reading it earlier in the morning, his mind couldn't grasp anything else. Ron's parting words - "You just need to get shagged, mate." - only made the obsession with the sheet worse, and the truth behind the statement bothered him a lot more than he was willing to admit. What was he waiting for? Of course his being the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could get him any girl - or any _guy_ for that matter - he wanted within hours, minutes, _seconds…_ all it took was one letter to the person of his choice and they would floo to his dorm and just strip.

Gods knew he was a sexually frustrated seventeen-year-old boy who was…

A _virgin._

Even Seamus had offered to shag nine or ten times.

Why couldn't he just…do it?

_Aww...! You're saving yourself for Malfoy! How disgustingly Hufflepuff of you!_

"Oh no…"

Oh yes…did you really believe that I would disappear for good? Merlin knows I wouldn't mind; I utterly detest your Gryffindor friends.

"Then sod off!"

Repeat after me: I am you, you are me. Where you go, I go… 

"Grrr, unbelievable!"

Did you just growl at me? The fuck kinda noise of frustration is that? 

Harry flipped on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, once again trying not to give into the urge of breathing. He suddenly felt like crying.

Write…that will make you feel better.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. "That's the best suggestion you have ever given me."

Well, it'll be an even better suggestion when I add 'write more about Draco.'

Harry decided to ignore the last part and almost against his will, his hand drifted towards the stack of blank parchment beside his bed, the Slytherin green ink, and his writing quill. He found himself thinking about _Late Night Stroll,_ and because of his masochistic tendencies, he began writing a complementary piece in rapid succession.

_Early Morning Run_

_The air was crisp._

_Crisp, cool, unrelenting in its breeze - it was the way he liked it for his morning run. His troubles came and parted with the fickle wind, and he found himself more at peace in the brutal wind than in the calmness of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was given the opportunity to let the Ultimate Bastard mask drop, and he relished every second of the exposure._

_Blasting his Muggle CD player, which no one knew he had save Blaise, Draco Malfoy closed his eyes as his favorite Muggle band, Coldplay, blocked out the surrounding sounds of nature. He was listening to his favorite song: Green Eyes. The words came with practiced familiarity, and quickly scanning the area to ensure he was alone, he let the lyrics pour from candy pink lips, silver eyes closed to the world as he sang._

_But he wasn't alone._

_Unbeknownst to him, a figure watched from above, raven hair tousled from the wind's constant change of direction. Green eyes widened almost comically so as the running boy adjusted his Muggle headphones, and lips parted to release a gasp as he heard the lyrics drift through the air. He recognized the song, but what got him the most was the call of--_

"_Harry…"_

_Draco opened his eyes as the song ended, face scrunching up in a disbelieving frown. He had made his feelings real; he had said the name that had been pounded through his mind for the last year aloud, and with such emotion. He guessed there was no turning back now._

_Especially since said person who haunted his dreams and every waking moment landed with a soft thud in front of him._

_Shocked emerald green meet shocked silver, and when shaken out of his stupor, Draco shut the CD player off as the phrase 'green eyes' drifted off into the background. He opened his mouth to speak, but for the first time since he'd attending Hogwarts and faced off against the Boy-Who-Lived, he was speechless. What was he to say? He had been using a Muggle device, listening to Muggle music, **singing**__said music, and whispering the boy's name aloud. _

_With love._

_Speechless indeed._

_Harry, on the other hand, had plenty of things to say, questions to ask. But they were coming at him with such rapidity and in such a confusing jumble, he couldn't decipher which questions to ask, let alone what comments to say. All the preconceived notions he had about Draco Malfoy were stripped from him within seconds, and he was at a lost on what to do. Maybe he should give into the impulse to fall towards the other, wrap him in his arms, kiss those delicious lips…maybe that was what he **needed** to do. For the both of them._

_So he did._

_Taking a giant step forward and dropping his Firebolt, Harry ignored the surprised gasp from Draco and pressed his lips to the other boy's, arms swung tightly around his neck. _

_That was the catalyst. _

_Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist just as tightly, kissed him with just as much fervor, and explored his body with wandering hands just as Harry was doing. Words were meaningless here; the union transpiring was laced with so much fragility that words would only serve to break it - shatter it so that it would no longer be able to be put together. There was only one phrase that could describe it:_

_It. Was. **Right**._

_In every sense of the word._

_The kiss broke from the need of oxygen, but immediately joined again with more fervor than the last. Draco hooked his leg around Harry's calf and brought the two tumbling to the ground. Rolling so that he topped, Draco tore at Harry's robes with shaky fingers, all the while keeping his lips attached to those of Harry's. _

"Harry?"

_Harry just gave in; he knew that the Slytherin needed that power, that control that came with being dominant. The Slytherins had so many things spiraling out of control this year that it was a wonder they lasted this long._

"Mate?"

_Draco was at his navel now, plunging into it wildly as he rocked his hips against Harry's legs. Feeling the burgeoning erection pressed against his leg caused Harry to moan Draco's name loudly, unashamed and unrepentantly, and twine his fingers into Draco's long white gold locks. He could feel the pressure at the pit of his stomach, the tightening of his muscles--_

"HARRY!"

The curtain was ripped open to reveal a flustered Hermione and a disgruntled Ron. Harry stopped writing immediately and clutched the two sheets of parchment to his chest like a protective mother over her child. "What?" he snapped, breathing as if he had run a marathon.

Ron glared at him for his rudeness while Hermione brushed it off. "Don't you remember? It's Hogsmeade weekend! The twins' birthday is in a couple of weeks so we wanted to get them something now. Are you coming?"

With an ill-veiled sigh, Harry eyed Hermione and Ron with annoyance as he turned to stack up the blank sheets of parchment and cap the inkpot. "Alright, I'll...be ready in a few. Meet me in the Entrance Hall, and we'll walk together, ok?"

The two nodded briefly as they stood there watching Harry pack up. Sensing their eyes on him, Harry added, "and no, I'm not going to let you read what I was writing."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione breathed out as she stomped out the room. Ron was close behind her, a scowl adorning his features, and with a slam of the door, Harry was finally alone.

Instantly he was back on the bed, trembling as he read over _Early Morning Run_ again and again. It was by far the most emotional piece he had written that actually included he himself, and he found that he wanted this scene to happen more than ever. Taking out _Late Night Stroll_ - which he kept under _Early Morning Run_ - he skimmed over its contents once more before taking a deep, shaky breath, locking it into his trunk, and heading to the bathroom to take a quick cold shower.

---

As he said he would, Harry met the rest of the Golden Trio in the Entrance Hall. An evergreen fall cloak was draped across his shoulders, slightly covering tight black jeans and a button down evergreen shirt to match the cloak. For some reason, he felt compelled to dress extra nicely, just in case he ran into someone special.

He had to keep telling himself that he did not dress extra special for Malfoy, no matter what the voice in his head - his Inner Slytherin - said.

He also had to keep telling himself that the _only _reason why he stuffed _Late Night Stroll _and _Early Morning Run_ into his cloak pocket was for research purposes - _inspiration _for more Heath/David short stories if you will.

He sighed.

He truly was a pitiful, little sod.

"Ron, Hermione."

While Hermione cast him a stiff glare and went off with her head held high, Ron eyed him in exasperation before catching up with Hermione and falling into step beside her. The two began to whisper ferociously then, but Harry didn't care too much because he was lost in his jumbled thoughts.

While _Late Night Stroll_ had been a representation of the physical aspect of the relationship, _Early Morning Run_ had stayed true to being its complement; it had definitely been the representation of the emotional aspect of the relationship. Looking back on _how _he wrote each piece, he realized many things – for one, _Late Night Stroll_ – being the physical representation that it is – portrayed Draco making the first move, allowing the two of them to delve into the physical desire emitting between the two. _EMR_, however, portrayed _Harry _making the first move, allowing them to accept and recognize that something more was there.

It was amazing and terrifying.

He hadn't even _realized _he wrote the two pieces this way, let alone create the startling symbolism behind them.

But.

Since he had, even unconsciously doing so, was it an indication that he should take to heart? A sign from Fate that would lead him in the right direction of fulfilling destiny?

Or was it just wishful thinking to the extreme, something as real as visions of death and destruction from soggy tealeaves?

"Harry!"

He didn't know, and his best friends wouldn't leave him the fuck alone long enough for him to find out.

"Harry, c'mon we have to hurry!"

"O-ok…"

Harry didn't quite know where he was hurrying to since he was lost in his thoughts for the entire way to Hogsmeade, but a quick yank into a tightly packed place full of jostling third and fourth years immediately notified him that he was in Honeydukes. The place was well stocked as always, filled to the brim with Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, and Every Flavor Beans. He almost felt like the third years here when entering; the place – with its excitement, shouts of glee, and mini brawls over candy – made him feel like bouncing on his heels and grabbing at every open piece of candy.

A delighted smile adorned his features when he spotted his new obsession – besides Draco Malfoy of course – and weaving through the crowd with practiced grace, he arrived at the jug of Gasmati Gumballs, little tiny honey-covered gumballs with an explosion of cinnamon-sugar in its center. Three-fourths of the gallon jug was already emptied, much to Harry's dismay. Usually half would suffice until the next Hogsmeade Weekend, but seeing as there was only a quarter left, Harry reached for the handle of the jug—

—to brush against the soft, silky smooth skin of Draco Malfoy.

The touch was electric; it felt as if he had stuck his hand in water, then touched an open Muggle outlet, only without the pain. It shocked him to the very core so much so that he jerked as if burned and crashed into a group of Slytherin third years who sneered at him and stared dreamily at Draco. Nevertheless, he didn't notice, simply because he couldn't take his eyes off of the god who was Draco.

He wore all black – skin-tight leather trousers that clung sinfully to his powerful legs and delectable ass with a silk button down shirt open at the collar to reveal a long strip of toned pale flesh. The black was of the purest form, giving him an otherworldly look that had presence and commanded attention. His white golden locks were a stark contrast against the black as they rested confined upon his shoulder by a matching ribbon. And on top of all that: his eyes.

Gorgeous, amazing, wonderful, marvelous, fascinating, and all of the other cliché words to describe those silver depths that made him fall hard for Draco.

He realized with a start that he didn't do Draco's eyes justice when describing them in his pieces. He just put 'gray,' maybe 'silver' a few times, but his eyes…no…they were so much more than just 'silver.'

And they were scanning his form with the barest hint of desire in their depths.

"Potter," the god stated coolly, his rich tenor – just shy of baritone – taut with huskiness.

Was it possible to be hit with an amazing orgasm just from having your name called?

"Mal—" Harry cleared his throat. "Malfoy."

The two of them stared at each other a bit longer before Harry let out a nervous chuckle and turned to eye the Gasmati Gumballs sitting innocently between them. "Aren't these good?" he asked while rubbing the back of his head. "I swear to Merlin they're addictive."

Feeling Draco's eyes still pinned on his form, Harry looked up to meet his gaze once more before adding with a sheepish smile, "at least I think so."

He saw Draco's eyes widened almost imperceptibly from the smile directed his way and decided right then and there that surprising Draco Malfoy was something he had to do more often. But he decided to scratch that thought when Draco returned the favor with a cute upturn of the corners of his mouth - a small, but impish smile of his own.

Harry felt his heart trip, roll, and tumble some place out of his body just then.

"I can't live without having at least a third of this jug between Hogsmeade weekends," Draco commented amicably, "and I usually bite the person who tries to deplete my supply. But—"

With a Snitch-quick grab and a flick of his wand, Draco cradled the large jug in his hands and poured half of the contents of the jug into an emerald velvet bag. He shook the jug once to confirm he had been even with the measurements, handing a dazed Harry the bag. "—I guess we'll just have to share."

Then he was gone, but not without a parting smirk that left Harry oxygen-deprived.

"Harry, mate?"

Ron appeared in his line of vision – seeing as he couldn't _breathe_, let alone move – and cast him a slightly worried look at the lack of response from his best friend. Apparently, he hadn't seen Draco. "Hey, where'd you get the bag from?"

The question shook Harry from his stupor, and with speed he had no clue he possessed, he pushed through the crowd to the counter, paid, and ran back to the school with one thought in mind.

_I have to write!_

---

To Be Continued…

_Remember: leave your email if you want to be on the mailing list! This is the last reminder!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	4. The Sacred Conference of the Infamous Tr

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**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**IMPORTANT NOTE TO FF REVIEWERS**: FF is being stupid; its not showing half of the email address for some reason so anonymous reviewers should put their email in the space provided! Signed reviewers…well, if the email you want to give me is different from the on in your profile, then write it fully out. Example: icia211 at America Online. If the end is different then .com, then put it in parentheses next to the service. Sorry you have to do this – if it's any easier just email me at the example email address. Thanks!

**Chapter Four – The Sacred Conference of the Infamous Triumvirate**

A lone wolf trotted towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although it would seem damn near impossible, a fierce scowl permeated its features, and its fur was bristled from what appeared to be stress and tension. A pendant, depicting a silver crescent moon, dangled from the wolf's neck. It swung in sync with the movement of its owner, and a beautiful, musical chime sounded every time its surface bounced off the chest of the beast.

Hogwarts was just a winding path away now, and the wolf picked up its pace at the sight of it. It paused mid-step, scanned the area, then sauntered over to a wooded area just outside the wards of the school. Within moments, Draco Malfoy stood in the place of the pale-haired wolf, face tinged a lovely hue of pink. He smoothed out imaginary wrinkles from his clothes before clutching the now hidden pendant lying across his chest. It chimed loudly then as it shimmered a dazzling royal blue. The crescent moon spun a full 360, and before he knew it, Draco felt the familiar tug at his navel and was transported, by portkey, to the Dragon's Den, a place created only for the Slytherin Triumvirate deep underground the earth of the Forbidden Forest.

It was something the trio – Draco, Blaise, and Pansy - had created in times of an emergency; the three best friends had been together since they were only months old, and when the welfare of one of them had been threatened, the other two wanted to hear about it and _do_ something about it. At first it had been created for Pansy's sake – poor girl seemed to be a magnet when it came to physical and magical maladies. But as the three got older, and more emotional problems started to surface, the stylish portkey of sorts became a way of solving stressful problems or plotting devious schemes for revenge.

And as Draco fell – with a dignified grace only blessed to a Malfoy – on his and Blaise's bed, he felt wholeheartedly that he was in a dire situation.

The cause of the esteemed 'dire' situation: who else? Potter.

Harry-bloody-Potter, The-Boy-Who-Is-Too-Damn-Adorable-For-His-Own-Good.

He couldn't get that smile out of his mind, the way he struggled to come up with small talk, the way he added with an almost self-deprecating smile, "_at least I think so."_ It affected him so much more than he wanted, and Harry must have realized that as well because as soon as his façade slipped slightly to show surprise, Harry's smile got wider, and his eyes…oh…his eyes.

The emeralds just _lit up!_

Merlin, was he gorgeous! Almost everything about him screamed '_protect me' _and '_I'm so weak, save me!"_

And if Draco had anything to say about it, if the opportunity came up where he needed to save Boy Wonder, he would do it in a heartbeat. Like a bloody reckless Gryffindor.

But.

Harry was far from innocent; Draco knew it, Harry knew it, and everybody else knew it too. Judging from the outfit he had on in Honeydukes – those luscious, tight black jeans, and that mouth-watering emerald button down – and the way he appreciated Draco's own outfit, Harry wouldn't, _couldn't_, be considered remotely innocent.

And it only made Draco's hungry for him grow to unparalleled heights.

That's why he called the meeting.

As if answering Draco's subconscious calls, Pansy and Blaise swirled into view, with Pansy's sun pendent glowing a deep purple, and Blaise's star pendent glimmering a seductive crimson. The two grasped onto each other out of reflex – since neither had the grace of a Malfoy – and stared at Draco in concern.

"Draco," Pansy called. She climbed onto the king sized bed and cradled the now limp boy in her arms. "What's the matter?"

Draco looked into Pansy's pale green eyes and instantly felt silly for calling her and making her worry like this. Like most of the Slytherins, Pansy's personality was misinterpreted – her rambunctious nature made others think of her as loud and cruel in her teasing when really her spitfire behavior was similar to that of Lily Potter's. But being the Slytherin that she was, it was looked down upon. And her flirtatious nature with the boys got her the name "The Slytherin Slut" even though she didn't swing that way. Every Slytherin knew Pansy fancied girls! Her flirting with boys in other houses as well as her own was just a type of mockery – another joke from her twisted, yet hilarious, sense of humor.

It was a joke only Slytherins would be able to understand.

Draco often did the same with girls of other houses, if they were 'hot' enough. Merlin knows he had never and would never shag anything in a skirt.

Looking into her beautiful face – _not_ pug-like…anymore – and seeing the concern there, he opened his mouth to answer her question, but noticed— "You dyed your hair."

She smirked, in a decidedly Malfoyish way, before combing her fingers through her now waist-length deep auburn hair, which framed her face in layers and curled loosely at the end. "I figured I wanted to be like the Golden Triumvirate," she said with mock admiration. "There was a need for a redhead in this trio; two blondes in a group, especially with one who looked _much_ better as a blonde, seemed stupid."

Blaise collapsed on the bed beside them with a burst of laughter, now truly noticing that they, indeed, look similar to the Gryffindor trio. The two sidekicks in both had the same hair color; all Blaise and Pansy needed to do was switch hair colors and they would be the Slytherin complements of the Gryffindors.

Draco, however, failed to see in the amusement in the statement. All it served to do was remind him of Hermione and Weasley, which lead to the idea of Potter.

_Fucking Potter_,_ fucking with everyone's fucking thoughts like a fucking idiot..._

"But," Pansy started with the smirk still set on her features. "We're not here to talk about my hair, are we dear?"

Blaise's laughter was cut short. "Yea, Draco," he agreed with concern, "why did you call us?"

Draco stared at his two best friends before moving off his position on the bed and pacing steadily from one end of the room to the other. When in his Animagus form, all he felt was the intense need to call the rest of his pack; to band together and stand against the problem that had plagued his life. But now, as he watched Blaise and Pansy watch _him_ with concern, thinking something life changing or drastic was happening, he felt…

Well, like a _bloody Hufflepuff_, of course!

Calling his friends just so he could share his feelings of the situation…ha! Who was he, Justin Finch-Fletchley? Colin Creevey? _The Weaselette!_

No!

He was a Malfoy through and through – devious, cunning, not to mention irresistible. Although he wasn't the evil bastard he thought he was – proven when he successfully deflected an attack from Voldemort on Halloween last year – he still was a Malfoy, and Malfoys always got what they wanted. He heard Blaise's speech echo in his mind.

_"Be a **Malfoy**, Draco, and go get what you want!"_

Too true, too true.

_"Pining and bitching over Harry bloody Potter..._

Hmph. Malfoys don't bitch.

…the bloke is gorgeous and you haven't done anything yet!

Mental note: torture Zabini ruthlessly for admiring **his** Harry.

What happened to the Slytherin Sex God who reigned supreme since he got here? What happened to your I-get-whatever-the-fuck-I-want-whenever-I-want-it-and-you-damn-near-better-give-it-to-me attitude that the Slytherins love and respect?"

It's still in him, damnit! So he was a bit distracted by permanently pouty pink lips, sensual olive skin, those jewels for eyes, not-to-mention tho—

He shook his head like a wet dog, trying futilely to rid himself of the unwanted – desired – thoughts. _Enough of this!_

"You are my comrades, more than the lowlifes that reign supreme at the bottom of the House of Slytherin, are you not?"

Blaise and Pansy nodded enthusiastically.

Draco paused for a moment before he took two giant strides to reach Pansy, grabbing her chin and forcing spring green eyes to stare unblinkingly into silver depths. "If I asked you," he started with a forceful whisper, "to ride into hell on a thestral and try to take the throne of Satan, what would you say?"

Pansy leaned forward and placed a forceful kiss on the lips of her leader. "Do you want that throne veiled in his blood or adorned with his head?"

He returned the kiss in earnest, even though he got nothing of the sexual kind of out it, then broke it roughly with an enthusiastic, _"exactly!" _

He whipped his head in the direction of Blaise and grabbed his chin much in the same way he did Pansy, this time forcing hazel eyes to stare unblinkingly into his own eyes. "And if," he started in the same tone of voice, "I asked you to slay all of the angels in heaven, what would you say?"

This time, Draco didn't wait for Blaise to initiate the kiss. He captured his lips forcefully, feeling Blaise respond immediately and with such a familiarity that it took his breath away. Ending the kiss with a small final peck on the corner of Draco's mouth, Blaise breathed out, "Do you want their bodies whole, sliced, to "disappear," or to be reduced to ash?"

"Excellent, excellent!"

He let go of Blaise and resumed pacing in front of them. He tilted his head askance briefly to eye the two friends. Both now had a gleam of anticipation in their eyes, causing him to inwardly crow with glee. He could always count on them.

"Your loyalty almost astounds me; it rivals that of a Hufflepuff."

All three shuddered.

"But of course, not giving your loyalty to me would result in a slow, tortuous death in the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor, so I suppose we could consider this… _loyalty _Slytherin-esque – it is, after all, self-preservation.

"Speaking of Slytherins, we are what makes the House of Slytherin the way it is today. It has always been that way, ever since we set foot in this Merlin-forsaken school. We have power, prestige, a presence that demands that everyone shut the fuck up so we can say our piece. Even before Hogwarts, while the others had mediocre dreams and low standards in life, we fought, kicked, and screamed our way to the top. It is that very reason why I picked the sun, moon, and star pendants for our emergency portkey.

"Overworked and under appreciated, the sun, moon, and stars have dominion over some of the most important entities; they determine the time, the weather, the cycle of life and death, even going as far as to determine the _moods_ of the people residing.

"The powerful radiance of the sun…"

He looked to Pansy, gently smiling at the bright smile elicited.

"…the gentle reassurance of the stars…"

Blaise smiled softly as he looked to him.

"…and finally, the calm, cool, collected stealth of the moon."

Draco paused in his speech and pacing – more so for a dramatic pause than a collection of thoughts – then resumed after retying his ponytail. "Sadly, however, there are certain factors that the three – the sun, moon, and stars as well as us being Slytherin royalty - cannot control. An example? Gryffindors."

Gasps sounded.

"Yes, I know. Simply dreadful, isn't it? But I have a plan, a plan that will benefit you and me both."

"But Draco," Pansy interrupted, "what does this meeting and plan have to do with…_them?_"

Blaise watched as Draco snapped an impatient, "_wait!"_ before digging deep in his cloak pocket and pulling out an innocuous black velvet bag, which strings were tied in a fancy bow. He gingerly handed the bag to Pansy, and Blaise scooted close to her to view the contents of the bag. It certainly looked familiar, but they couldn't put a name to it.

"Draco?" Blaise questioned cautiously. Pansy's gaze snapped over to Blaise. The chestnut-haired boy was now a deathly pale, lips quivering, sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead in rivulets. It seemed that he figured it out. What in name of Merlin was wrong with him?

"What?"

Pansy looked to Draco and found that he wasn't fairing much better. Instead of becoming pale, his face became rosy and his breathing was labored as if he had just finished yelling. His hair was loose, seeing as he undid the ribbon when he raked his hand through his long hair, and his eyes were alight with such embarrassment that she had to wonder: What the _fuck _was going on?

"Why is this bag not the size of my torso?"

Click! It was as if everything slid into place. She knew what was going on, but…

She snatched the bag out of Blaise's hand and turned it over. 'Gasmati Gumballs' was stitched along the front in silver, laying flat across the velvety surface instead of being bumpy and enlarged as it always was after a visit to Honeydukes. She opened the bag. "Bloody hell, Draco!" she exclaimed as she showed the bag's contents to Blaise. "There must only be 50 of those gumballs in here!

"What happened?" she demanded, shooting up off the bed and grabbing Draco by the shoulders. "You usually buy the jug and steal the ones the third years already bought! What happened, damnit!"

Draco lifted his head high, as if facing his execution with dignity. "I gave some to Potter."

Silence.

Blaise blankly. "You gave some to Potter."

Pansy lividly. "You gave some to _Potter!"_

Draco with indignation. "He wanted some!"

Silence.

SLAP!

Draco automatically muttered a small healing spell to take off some of the sting from Pansy's hard slap. The now redheaded girl shouted the counter spell, making it sting worse than it did before. He glared at her.

"Now you listen here, _Malfoy_! You are a selfish, greedy son of a bitch! Why the fuck did you display _goodness_ to the worse Gryffindor of the entire lot!"

Draco put one hand on his hip, shifting his weight to settle on his right leg. "I am a selfish, greedy son of a bitch," he agreed haughtily, but added, "he was being civil, though!"

Pansy knew of the crush he had on Golden Boy, and it was okay because the boy was bloody gorgeous but this. Now this was despicable. He was civil so he had to give away part of the one thing that drove Blaise and herself crazy! His fixation with those gumballs had gotten her injured, verbally shredded, and detentions because of his status as Head Boy and the son of a fucking bitch had readily _given away_ his obsession because of the Measly Boy Wonder!

She resisted the urge to slap him again.

Instead, she lunged forward and grasped the front of his shirt, causing the two to tumble down to the ground. He struggled immediately, proclaiming that if she did not remove her hands from his person she would soon find them laying beside her, but she was prepared and yelled "_Elanguesco_," making him instantly relax in her arms. Followed by "_Consopio,"_ Pansy levitated the now sleeping boy onto the bed, making sure to be extra harsh in her treatment, watched the boy bounce a few times off of its surface, then motioned for Blaise to come.

"We have to plan, my friend."

---

To Be Continued…

_Sorry for the delay I had to take the ACT. Please review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	5. The Shady Inspiration of an Undercover A

**Special Thanks To**: FF Reviewers: Rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, Kairi099, PlzNsertSN, Kairi999, D.G. Cory, checkmarks, chibixholic, RayneWolf, gothic-chik, myniephoenix, Faded Glitter, MaggiePapaya, ElizabethMarieRose, Blaise Freyini (x2), Heartbrokenalloveragain, DW fanatic, hehe, … … …I don't got one, Pink Raine, and Sethian!

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**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note: **Don't worry, people! Blaise and Pansy are harmless… and there will be more Draco/Harry interaction coming in a few chapters!

**Chapter Five – The Shady Inspiration of an Undercover Author**

Harry did not rest until he reached the Room of Requirement, even though he felt the urge to collapse when he reached the midpoint of the journey. He was delighted to see his room of choice; a master suite drenched in beautiful hues of blue and silver, his two favorite colors. He went straight for the king-sized bed, accioed his writing trunk through the strategically placed window, and flung out his stack of blank pieces of parchment, his emerald green ink, and his favorite eagle feather quill (which rumored to be from Malfoy's eagle owl).

Visions of playful silver eyes, impish smiles, toned forearms, and immaculate white gold locks flashed throughout his mind like gaudy neon lights – snitches of pure black, pale, flawless flesh, powerful legs, defined abs peaking from beneath smooth silk…

Strong jaws, slender hips, delicious ass…

With a groan, he grabbed the nearest pillow to smother himself, as if he were trying to smother the intense, almost _painful_, desire escalating within him. He felt like he should stick a warning on his back similar to that of a Muggle aerosol container:

**WARNING:** Contents under sexual pressure. Keep away from seventh year Draco Malfoy. Do not tease or touch. Exposure to said person may cause bursting.

Not only was he under the sexual pressure that came with craving the god Draco Malfoy, he wanted to know what made the other boy tick: what makes him laugh? Cry? Scream? Lose control? What was his favorite color? Favorite type of fabric to wear? Did he like the feel of silk on bare skin? Was he the type to look at the person he was shagging or did he like it doggy style?

Fuck, he was hard!

He had to relieve some of this pressure. Wanking was not an option; he only did that in the dead of the night. No, what he needed was a distraction - something completely off of the subject of sex and silk.

He grabbed the quill and dipped the tip in the ink.

_Goobers_

"_Goobers? What are those again?"_

_Heath pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out another exasperated sigh. He was, once again, training David in the area of all things Muggle, and today's topic happened to be Muggle candy. Because of his love's dreadful memory, Heath was asked that very question six times, not including the questioning looks thrown his way when said candy was mentioned. He loved David to death, but honestly, if he were asked that question one more time, he would have to kill him; a swift, yet efficient Avada Kedavra._

"_David…love," Heath said as if talking to a child and reassuring his love for the other man. David looked to him askance. "They're chocolate covered peanuts."_

_He held up the blue box and pointed to the picture to emphasis his point, mentally screaming for joy when David shook his head in recognition. Leaning forward onto his knees, Heath planted a chaste kiss on the corner of David's mouth as a reward. David returned it in earnest before grabbing the smaller young man and situated him between the 'V' of his legs. "I don't know why you bother to still eat Muggle candy," David joked. He wrapped his arms around Heath's waist while the other laid his head on his shoulder. "We both know Gasmati Gumballs are the best."_

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Disgusted with himself, Harry stood up abruptly and crumpled the piece of parchment with his right hand, then threw it across the room into the fireplace. He shouted "_Incendio!"_ and watched with satisfaction as it burst into flames and was reduced to ash. The whole point of running out of Hogsmeade was to distract himself from any…temptation. He'd had this crush for a long while, and neither Ron nor Hermione knew of it. If he kept along this route, one day they're going to see him checking out Draco Malfoy's ass and are going to wonder what the bloody hell was going on. He loved his friends dearly, but…

No.

He wasn't going to come out to them and ask for their support.

And he sure as hell wasn't going to leave them clues so they could figure it out.

_Damned if I do, damned if I don't, _he thought with sardonic amusement. _I am screwed…and not even of the good kind._

The fire died with an anticlimactic 'poof,' leaving Harry in a silence that dragged all of the thoughts he had been trying to lock away to the forefront of his mind. He pictured a nice fire, heavy blankets, and two swaddled figures – one slightly bigger than the other wrapping muscular arms around the other form and dropping a kiss on his love's crown. The other would sigh with contentment, huddle closer, and make sure that every inch of his body was flush against the other, a slow, kindling of arousal ignited between them.

Merlin, he hated being a writer some time.

They always came up with the most vivid of scenarios.

---

The room eventually became too stifling for Harry; the room he once called his ultimate getaway became a haven for scenarios of the wishful mind and a remainder of the loneliness within him. So he began to roam the castle – although he had scoped every inch of the castle during the war last year to make sure the Death Eaters couldn't sneak their way in – but he found the walk a calming balm to his frazzled nerves and tense form.

Without even realizing it, he made his way to the teachers' areas. He had just past Professor Sprout's bedchambers and, much to his delight, was just outside Professor Lupin's chambers.

Remus' work in the war last year earned him his rightful spot as the DADA teacher at the request of most of the Aurors and the parents of his previous students. The fact that he was a werewolf had been all but forgotten, but Severus' new variation of Wolfsbane made him healthier and certainly not as dangerous as he once was during a full moon.

Remus was the perfect person to talk to, Harry realized with a start, considering the fact that he too had an affinity for males. Why he didn't think of it before was lost on him.

Almost leaping the rest of the way to Remus' chambers, Harry cordially nodded to the elegant man in the portrait before raising his arm to knock on the thick frame. It opened before his hand made contact with the surface, and he backed away to let the other person coming out through.

"Please don't go."

Harry certainly recognized the voice of his professor and mentor Remus Lupin, but was that pleading he heard in that command? Was that the longing and desire he often made himself have when talking to Draco in one of his erotic stories?

It couldn't be! Remus was single!

"Why shouldn't I, Remus? You all but asked me to leave the moment I set foot in the door."

Harry inched closer. That voice sounded awfully familiar - he just couldn't place where he had heard it before.

"No, I didn't. I was shocked to say the least, but hell, can you blame me? I haven't seen or heard from you for over a year! Not one owl…or…anything!" His voice turned angry. "And now, you come strutting into my bedchambers as if you never left!"

"Remus…"

"That's Lupin to you, _Malfoy_."

Harry clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the gasp. Malfoy? As in _Lucius Malfoy?_ Saints preserve us!

Inching closer, Harry paused when he heard the _pitter patter _of expensive shoes on hardwood floors, and slunk back into the shadows when the door squeaked open another smidge. He could now see the two gentleman facing each other, Remus sitting on the couch with a scowl on his face and Lucius standing taunt in front of him and leaning a bit on the elegant cane to his left side.

"Well, _Lupin_, once again you are speaking before you have the chance to think over the situation at hand."

_Merlin, _Harry thought with a moan, _I definitely know now who Draco got that sexy drawl from._

"I was scorned on the side of the Light and the Dark, a bounty was on my head, and even Dumbledore couldn't provide me a haven in which to stay and fight. What, pray tell, was I suppose to do? Find an opening between running from the Death Eaters and finding a spot for hiding to leave you a goodbye note?"

_And the cutting sarcasm!_

Harry saw the look of indecision on his mentor's face and mentally empathized with him. Lucius' bold statements held nothing but truth in them, and even though the taller man was right, he still saw the anger on the werewolf's countenance.

But to his surprise, Harry saw Lucius' emotionless mask soften into what he thought to be affection and a hint of amusement. The blonde then sat beside Remus and pulled him into a warm embrace, burying his face into the other man's hair and inhaling deeply. Remus returned the embrace with ferocity, so much so that it looked like it hurt to be in it. The two stayed that way for a while until Lucius broke away to stare deep into Remus' hazel eyes.

"Remus."

The werewolf looked away, a stubborn frown on his face. "Malfoy."

A soft smile. "Lupin."

A soft laugh. "Lucius."

Knowing he was forgiven, Lucius grabbed Remus' chin, swooped down, and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, instantly sweeping his tongue across Remus' lower lip for entry. He was granted that entry immediately, and after a brief struggle for dominance, Remus melted into Lucius' embrace and surrendered to his love's domination.

Harry watched on, entranced.

Lucius upped the passion by wrapping an arm around Remus' waist and settling him beneath his form, using that very arm to stroke and caress the other's form. He developed a reoccurring pattern; left nipple to abs, abs to hips, hips to ass, ass to thigh, repeat. Remus moaned into the kiss and nipped at the taller man's bottom lip when the other chuckled sensually.

Lucius broke the kiss. He stared forward for a bit before turning his steely silver gaze at the door.

Right into Harry's own shocked and slightly glazed gaze.

"Remus, we have company."

"Mm?"

The professor allowed himself to be pulled up and moved in the direction of the door. He started when he meet Harry's gaze, and scrambling off of Lucius, he straightened his robes and hair while looking to the ground. "Harry!" he said too cheerfully. "What brings you here?"

Harry was still in a daze at the scene he just witnessed, but still had the sense to step more into the light. "I-I…"

He trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable lie to cover himself. Lucius stared at him knowingly. "It would appear that Mr. Potter here," Harry shivered from the sexy baritone, "was spying on us."

Remus gasped and turned to Harry, a blush thinly covering his cheeks. "Harry?"

Oh god, I was supposed to be distracted, and now I can't help hoping that Draco and I will be in that position one day!

"I-I gotta go!"

For the second time that day, Harry sprinted.

_I have to write! I have to write!_

Lucius eyed his retreating form with suspicion.

---

True to the thought he had when sprinting out of Hogsmeade to the Gryffindor Tower and out of Professor Lupin's chambers, Harry wrote. Thanks to Lucius and Remus' touching, sexy scene, he was able to proudly yell to the rooftops - although he wouldn't _dream _of doing it – that he wrote, front and back, 20 Muggle-sized sheets of parchment for the second arc of his Heath/David series, and two side short stories about his two original characters. And now, with his head cleared and panic dispelled, he was able to post them.

Thanks to the mischievous twins, Fred and George, and their Muggle-loving father, Arthur Weasley, the wizarding world gained the Wizarnet – the wizard's version of the Internet. The twins used the immense profits gathered from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes to make a library of sorts for research and study. Installing ten fireplaces with a floo network that connected to Fred and George's office, any wizard could create a "page," send it to the stationed receptionist, and have it accessible by a set keyword. If a wizard wanted to save the page or printed out for further use, one would only have to say "_Reservare_" or "_Exprimo_" and the page would be there for further access or copied onto a separate piece of parchment.

They called it an Arthurian; appropriately named after the man who researched the Muggle Internet so extensively.

It took hideously complicated magic to set everything up without flaws, but with the help of Dumbledore, the teachers of Hogwarts & Durmstrang, and the Ministry of Magic, the Wizarnet was able to grow to its maximum potential across all of the wizarding world. An Arthurian was added to every school, and set in every major wizarding area for public access.

Harry was part of the Klaudio, an "on-floo" society that posted their original stories for critiquing. Xavier Klaudio was the first wizard who was a fictional writer, and he created the society in the later part of his years. Usually meeting in Diagon Alley for book talks, the Klaudio leaped at the idea of posting when the Weasley Twins made debut of the Wizarnet. To be completely anonymous and have some privacy, Harry created the alias Ricense; in the Giant's language, the term meant "lover of the dragon."

He hadn't posted his novel yet; he wanted to finish it before he did. But he had hundreds of short stories featured in the society, all of which dealt with his original characters Heath and David, and the feedback so far had been addictive. He got the reviews every morning during school by an iamon owl – the bird could deliver messages based on a preset magical signature as opposed to a name.

It is safe to compare it to Muggle email.

So that was where he was heading now: to the Diagon Alley Arthurian. His initial shock and unbearable desire sprouted from Draco's amicability and that damn gorgeous smile he had when Harry tried to make small talk wore off completely. His shock and desire produced from seeing Lucius and Remus together had worn off completely. Now, it was replaced with barely suppressed glee – a subtle (well, as subtle as any Gryffindor can be) haze of bliss at the realization that Draco, King of Slytherin and most gorgeous bloke on the face of the Earth, had smiled at him. And shared his gumballs with him.

To any onlookers, it would appear that he was even _skipping_ Diagon Alley.

Not that he was.

Malfoy couldn't possibly be the cause of such whimsical behavior on his part.

And if he told himself that enough times, he might actually believe it.

"Harry!"

Harry stopped and turned at the call from his buddy Ron, who was running toward him with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan on his heels. Ignoring the lustful looks thrown at him from Seamus, Harry smiled brightly and replied, "Yes?"

Ron stopped mid-run, a look of utter bewilderment on his face, and caught himself from falling when Dean ran right into him. He briefly glared at the other boy before walking the rest of the way to Harry and staring at his mate with an incredulous frown. "What's the matter with ya mate?"

Seeing Harry cock his head to the side in questioning, Ron ventured on. "One moment, you run out of Hogsmeade like a bloody madman, and the next you're grinning like a loon and acting as if nothing happened!"

"Oh that," Harry chuckled as he shook his hand in a wave of dismissal, "I temporarily lost my mind…"

"I'll say!"

"…but I'm alright now. Everything's dandy."

Ron stared. "Everything is _not_ alright if you're using the word dandy to describe how you're feeling!"

Harry let out a laugh deep from the belly, and because of his contagious laugh, Ron, Dean and Seamus found themselves laughing just as loudly. After a few minutes, Harry ended the laugh with a hearty inhale and a chuckle, slapping his best mate on the back and starting to head along his intended route. "Touché! But really, Ron, I'm fine."

"Ok, but I'm gonna check on you later!" Ron stated jokingly. "First you're talking to yourself, then you're showing signs of Muggle skits-so-frenia!"

Harry ignored the complete shredding of the word _schizophrenia _as well as the urge to laugh. He shifted the satchel swung over his shoulders—

—and felt the color literally drain from his face.

All of his short stories, including the ones exclusively starring himself and Draco, were lining the bottom of the bag, not to mention the first few chapters of his novel, _Sweet Surrendering Seduction_. He could picture it now: Ron asking him about the bag, him shrugging it off, Ron stealing the bag to view what was inside…

Ron dieing on the spot from heart failure while Seamus exclaimed how 'bloody brilliant' the stories were with drool gathering on the corner of his mouth.

_BOLLOCKS!_

For the third time that day, Harry sprinted.

"Harry!"

---

To Be Continued…

_Review, review, review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	6. The Countless Sides of a Slytherin Royal

**Special Thanks To:** FF Reviewers: Heartbrokenalloveragain, Sethian, RayneWolf, PlzNsertSN, threadsofregret, aphrodis, rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, Semma, anna may, skybluebutterfly, Ravynsword, CrAzYLoOn, Cricketpoor, DW fanatic, Kairi099, TatsuKitty, and Talons!

HP Fandom Reviewers: terralynn, marietsy, joelle, and ciaran draco!

**Disclaimer/Warning:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note: **Here's a quick update! Enjoy!

**Chapter Six – The Countless Sides of a Slytherin Royal**

He loved Pansy. She was intelligent, beautiful – what was the Muggle saying for her situation? Ugly duckling to swan…? – and she had an absolutely stunning personality when one got to know her true self. If he were in the slightest attracted to girls, and if she were in the slightest attracted to boys, he would have proposed to her the moment she set foot in Malfoy Manor the summer before sixth year.

No joke.

He could even say, with all of his heart, that she _will_ be the mother of his children when him and his future lover decide to have brats. That was just how special she was to him.

Regrettably, that wonderful future - where he, Pansy, Blaise, and his love (maybe Harry…) reminisce about their youth while periodically rubbing Pansy's pregnant belly – was not going to occur.

Simply because he was going to kill her.

It was going to hurt him more than it was going to hurt her, but he had to do it. The woman actually had the audacity to manhandle his already emotionally fatigued form and use magic on him without his permission! What nerve the cocky bitch had! She had just said she would slay Satan for him and then what does she do? Slap him, then put him to sleep as if she were so disgusted with him she couldn't stand his very existence.

Not that her spells were strong enough. Considering the training the three had last year with his father and the Zabini family, he was surprised that she used such mediocre spells. He felt the rough treatment as she slammed his prone body on the bed, and he certainly heard the 'we have to plan, my friend,' muttered to Blaise as they walked out.

Hmph.

The two were certainly cunning enough to plan something awfully devious, but there was a reason as to why he was the King of Slytherin.

And it wasn't only because of his sheer sex appeal.

_Even though that would be more than enough,_ he thought with a smirk.

Heaving himself up with a grunt, Draco cursed Pansy, for her spells caused stiff joints and a hell of a headache as a side effect. He brushed the lint off his clothes, smooth out the wrinkles, and retied his ponytail before once again transforming into his wolf form. The wolf in him made him sniff around the bed in the briefest of moments. He was glad he did, though; he found his bag of Gasmati Gumballs lying abandoned half way under the bed.

Mental note: add more to planned torture for such misuse of his gumballs.

Draco the wolf bit the velvety drawstrings gingerly and carried it in his mouth as he progressed to a trot. He absentmindedly admired the feel of velvet in his mouth before he pulled himself together and headed to Hogwarts.

It took no more than a quarter of an hour, considering he growled and snarled at any creature foolish enough to try and take his gumballs, and as Draco the human sauntered toward the Slytherin common room, popping a couple of gumballs in his mouth, a plan of revenge began to bloom. No one slapped Malfoy, no one used magic against a Malfoy, and no one planned to do wicked things to a Malfoy's infatuation without some type of consequence.

He chuckled deeply just from the ridiculousness of the situation, smirking at the flinches his evil laugh drew from wandering fifth years. Speaking of Malfoys, he needed to consult the master – the one man who taught him everything he knew, and praised him for coming up with entirely new ways to satisfy the Code of Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy.

He grinned in a decidedly evil way, and judging from the fear-stricken faces around him, struck terror in the hearts of all who witnessed.

_Damn, I'm good._

---

Draco arrived in front of Professor Lupin's bedchambers with his head held high, a smirk on his face, and amusement in his eyes. Although he had given up the childish taunts and classroom brawls, he still loved the power and control that came with intimidating the students in and below fifth year. On the way, he had managed to cause twelve screams, 23 flinches, and two faints – the victims happened to be on the receiving end of his most terrifying Malfoy Death Glare yet to date. Much to his dismay, his growls, snarls, scowls, and evil smirks didn't seem to work on the younger Slytherins; they were too enthralled with his gorgeous form to be scared.

Father had informed him of the little visit he was going to pay to his professor so he was pretty positive that his father was still in there. But to be sure, he threw a questioning look to the man in the portrait, only to receive a curt nod as affirmation to his thoughts. "Concordia."

The portrait opened with a squeak and a _swoosh._ Albeit seeing his father engaging in a passionate kiss while holding a straddling Remus, Draco strolled over to a nearby armchair and sat down, calmly waiting for the two to break apart and acknowledge his presence. He had seen this scene before, and quite frankly, he wasn't…_too_ impressed.

Father, being the alert, always-on-guard- kind of person he was, realized there was another presence in the room before the oblivious Remus. He broke the kiss for the second time that day, unbeknownst to Draco, and met the identical gaze of his son. "Draco."

"Father."

Remus let out a sigh and dropped his head to Lucius' shoulder. "Draco," he muttered in annoyance. Two times to be interrupted, all within an hour, really got on his nerve.

"Remus," Draco chuckled. He saw the annoyance on the werewolf's face and couldn't help but chuckle. Remus' expressions were a sight to behold. "I wanted to discuss something with Father, but you being here won't hurt."

That caught Remus' attention, and he climbed off of Lucius' lap to settle beside him. The other man crossed his legs as soon as his lap became unoccupied. "What's the matter, Draco?"

"Nothing too serious. I'm just in need of some…revenge and was going to consult Father about the method of doing so."

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"My person was roughly mistreated by Parkinson, and as we speak, she's developing a suspicious plan involving…"

He paused. Lucius and Remus did not know of his crush on Harry, but the two were certainly trustworthy enough to tell. They may be more reliable than the two knuckleheads he called best friends, but true to his Slytherin nature, he wanted to slink back into the background and observe them before showing his cards. Besides, Remus had pretty much been Harry's godfather since the death of Sirius. His Gryffindor nature wouldn't allow him even to omit the truth.

"…someone special to me."

Lucius let out a questioning and surprised, "oh?" while Remus gasped and leaned forward in his seat. "Someone special?" he asked excitedly. "Who is he? Do I have him in one of my classes? Does he know?"

"Calm down, Remus," Lucius drawled while rubbing the werewolf's back. "Breathe in, and give Draco the chance to give us a detailed explanation."

The indirect command made Draco smirk. "I'm not telling. You have had him in a class. No, he doesn't know."

"Alright, Draco, if you won't give me a straightforward answer for my questions, at least answer this one."

"Yes?"

"Is he…the one?"

He met Remus' gaze. Silver eyes widened in shock at the question.

_Flashback_

"_Mr. Malfoy, can you please stay after class?"_

_Draco wondered what the professor was going to say to him, but didn't let his curiosity show as he made his way to the front of the classroom while the others poured out into the halls. He could see a questioning look thrown in Professor Lupin's direction from Harry and the rest of his Trio, seeing as he did nothing to deserve an after class conversation. Not once had he messed with the Gryffindors; he even went as far as to be civil to secure his spot as Head Boy next year._

"_No worries, Mr. Malfoy. You are in no way, shape, or form in trouble."_

_Draco let out a sigh when he assessed the empty classroom and came to a stop in front of Lupin's desk. Now that the others were gone, Draco felt the pseudo-tenseness drain out of him. "Remus."_

"_Draco," Remus replied softly. He sent the student a warm smile and was pleased when it was returned in kind. "I…just wanted to know if you had heard from your father."_

_The boy's warm smile slipped off his face then, replaced by a worried and sad frown. "I haven't. Word in the Inner Circle of Junior Death Eaters says he's somewhere just short of Muggle Yorkshire, having been spotted by Macnair and Nott just a few days ago."_

_Remus let out a contemplative 'hm' and folded his hands together, setting his elbows on the desk and leaning his cheek on his joined hands. Draco let out a disheartened 'yea' before running his hands through his long hair. He stared at Remus then, as if trying to decode his innermost thoughts with a single glance. Remus met his stare evenly. An uncomfortable silence hung limply between them._

"_You care about my father."_

_The statement was said with awe and realization._

"_I love your father."_

_That statement was said with determination and resolution._

_Draco snorted. "But is he…the one?"_

_Remus leaned back, still staring into the familiar silver eyes of his love's son. "I'm not sure I understand what you're asking."_

_Breaking the stare, Draco began to whisper his explanation. "Is he the one who's the reason you wake up everyday? The one who, no matter what bad habits or tainted past they have, will make you feel as if nothing else matters because you have him and he has you?"_

_Remus was stunned into silence. Draco continued. "Is he the one who makes you laugh the hardest when he tells you even the stupidest of jokes? Is he the one who makes you cry the most when you engage in the silliest of fights?"_

_Silence._

"_Mein Herz ich will dich fragen: Was ist denn Liebe? Sag'—'Zwei Seelen und ein Gedanke, Zwei Herzen und ein Schlag!' What love is, if thou wouldst be taught, they heart must teach alone—two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one. (1)_

"_If you don't feel that way about my father, don't bother wasting your time to ask of his condition because you wouldn't be privileged to receive that information. Contrary to popular belief, Malfoys do believe in love – we believe that the purest of love is not limited to anyone, and that if one was to be in a relationship, then one should give their all for life. My mother and father were thrown together to continue on the line of Malfoy and were miserable. They were close friends at best; acquaintances at worst. And because of this, my father missed on his own chance at being with 'the one.'_

"_When my mother died, Father grieved for two days. He apologized to her for restricting her chance at complete happiness. And I wish she had the chance as well. She was a wonderful woman who truly deserved it."_

_Draco's eyes glazed over in sad reminisce before glared piercingly at Remus, causing the other man to flinch at the startling change in attitude. "So Remus Lupin, is Lucius Malfoy 'the one?'_

_Remus stood up, rolled his shoulders back, and tilted his chin in the air in a gesture Draco recognized as his father's. "Yes."_

_It was said with such conviction and dedication that it caused Draco to release all the worry, anger, and anguish caused from not knowing if his father was alive and well. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he let himself be wrapped up in a tight embrace. It had been a pivotal moment for the two – a beginning of a strong and dedicated friendship._

"_If you tell anyone about this Hug-Me Hufflepuff moment, I'll drag you to the Malfoy Manor dungeons and torture you myself. Then my father truly wouldn't get the shot at a better relationship."_

_Remus laughed heartily._

_End Flashback_

Draco thought about Harry. He thought about what it would be like if the two of them flew off to the Haven – his future house – and settled down, building their lives together in peace. He thought about what it would be like to wake up next to him, morning breath and all, and how he would feel if he were to see Harry walk into the kitchen after his shower to eat some of the food he cooked for him.

Merlin, he would truly be happy.

Rolling his shoulders back, Draco tilted his chin in the air. "Yes."

Remus opened his arms and motioned for a hug, and although reluctant, Draco stood and melted into his embrace. He buried his head in the crook of Remus' neck and squeezed tighter. He would never admit it aloud, but he was quite the tactile person. He needed to touch someone most of the time – a hand on the shoulder or small of someone's back, a loose hug here, a brush of skin there. He was sure Remus figured it out that day he clung onto him when the two had the heart to heart.

Inhaling deeply, Draco let go with a final squeeze and a contented sigh at the familiar scent that was Remus: oranges and brown sugar.

"As touching as this scene is," Lucius interrupted, "what was the point of your coming, Draco?"

Laughter ensued.

---

Father was a brilliant man. He was the epitome of cunning; it was easy to see where he got his own genius. The plan the three of them – yes, Remus as well - came up with would ensure the safety of Harry and properly punish the insolent one. Being best friends with the person he was punishing, it was easy to exploit the weaknesses of said person, making it a hell of a lot easier to plan. His wrath would be fulfilled, but he needed to find the culprits in order to carry out the retribution.

A quick stop to the Slytherin common room, and a couple of well-placed threats for those bribed to stay silent, informed him that Blaise and Pansy were heading to the Diagon Alley Arthurian. He wondered what the plan would involve to be in such a place, but nevertheless, headed along that route.

He had to give it to the Weasley Twins – using their profits for such an investment was, indeed, unadulterated genius. He had never used the Muggle Internet, but he had used the Wizarnet and even bought a private connection so he could access it at Malfoy Manor and his Head Boy room. It was expensive, like everything else he did, but it was worth it.

He took Muggle Studies just to learn more about the Internet, and what the Muggles call 'electricity.' For being so primal and childlike, they really did adapt to their given surroundings. He admired them for it.

The Arthurian blended in so well with the other buildings he almost walked right by it. A nondescript oak door with the letters 'DAA' carved into its wood marked the entrance for the place, but it didn't fool him. Inside was bold, majestic, and had an in-your-face design to it that was distinguishably Weasley. His respect for them went up a couple of notches after first visiting the place.

He opened the door and traveled down the winding path into the main lobby. The receptionist's platform and scrolls filing themselves was the sight that greeted him first. Draco put on his most charming smile as he approached. "Did you happen to see a young woman with auburn waist length hair and a young man with short chestnut-brown hair pass by here, madam?"

She pointed to the east wing with a sigh.

"Thank you very much."

He paused in his stride, took the receptionist's hand, kissed it briefly, and gave her a debonair wink before sauntering off to the east wing.

He heard a thud.

_Damn, I'm good. Three in one day._

"…what we're going to do…"

"…not such…good idea…"

"…thank us…surely…"

Draco recognized those hushed whispers and set about dragging them out the shop when he heard Pansy shrill, "_Perfect!_ The prey has come to us."

_Harry?_

Ducking behind a decorative column, Draco spotted his two sidekicks congregating at a nearby table, looking toward the back where the entrance burst opened to reveal a panting and disheveled Harry Potter.

_I wonder if he looks that way after shags…_Draco thought absentmindedly.

"Give it to him!"

"Why me, ya crazy hag? Draco is already going to kill you for using magic on him without his permission!"

"I can handle Draco…"

Draco snorted.

"…but since you have to be such a prat about it, I'll give it to him." In a louder voice. "Hey, Potter!"

The raven-haired boy turned to look at the Slytherin girl, suspicion and curiosity apparent in his eyes, as he made his way over. The satchel over his shoulders was pulled noticeably tighter against his form, and the confidence in his stride was all but nonexistent. The evil grin on Pansy's face made his step falter more than once. But Draco didn't notice that. His eyes were locked on Harry's face: wind-tousled hair, flushed cheeks from exertion, glowing green eyes…the sight took his breath away. The only thing missing from the complete the Quidditch look was that trademark radiant smile.

_Wow…_

A soft smile appeared on his face.

"Come on, I don't have all day."

The smile dissipated.

Harry frowned at her bossy tone of voice, yet came to a stop in front of her and Blaise. Eyeing Blaise's nervous form and Pansy's gleeful form, Harry muttered, "what is it?"

"Well, Potter, I wanted to know if—"

"—if you saw Draco since he was missing for a good chunk of time."

Pansy and Blaise alike flinched at the familiar husky voice informing them of his presence in a taunt drawl. Harry looked past Pansy with curiosity, and Draco struggled to look away from the adorable gaze and focus on Pansy. He stopped walking a few feet from the group, hands crossed tightly across his chest and a dark scowl on his features. Pansy, all the while toying with her long hair, turned slowly and flashed Draco a false look of surprise. "Oh, Draco! There you are…I was just going to ask Potter about you."

She ended the ramble with a nervous laugh, which died on her lips the moment Draco's scowl darkened.

Much to Harry's amusement, Blaise began backing up toward the exit.

"Surprise." Draco replied in clipped tones. "You've found me."

"Indeed."

"So, let's go."

"'Aco," she simpered, using his childhood nickname for emphasis, "I still have some work to do here."

"'Ansy," he mocked brutally, "you will leave this building willingly and with dignity intact or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. 'Aise is not here to help you."

"You wouldn't!"

Hearing the exit door shut to indicate Blaise's departure, Draco turned to Harry, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. "Have you gone through your stash yet?"

"Umm, not all of it," Harry stuttered at the direct and completely random question. He pulled the bag from his satchel. "Still a little bit left."

"Mind sparing one?"

"Sure." Harry reached in a pulled out an amber gumball, and as Draco held his hand out, he placed the ball in the center of his palm. Once again, their skin came in contact, and Draco shivered from the sheer magnetism of it. If he hadn't look down for a brief moment, he would have saw what Pansy saw: a look of intense longing and desire.

"Thanks," he said warmly, "I needed this."

He popped the piece of candy in his mouth, chewed for a second or two, then sweep Pansy off her legs and onto his shoulders. She let out a startled yelp, and as he began to head for the exit, she pounded on his back and muttered obscenities in his ear. She paused, however, when she caught Harry staring after them. It looked like he was staring directly at her.

When she followed his gaze, she found that he was staring at Draco's ass.

Mentally crowing with glee, Pansy made a movement to make Harry catch her eye before she made the motion of nuzzling Draco's ass and rubbing her hands together greedily.

He blushed brightly and looked away.

---

To Be Continued...

_(1) Friedrich Halm; Translated by Maria Lovell._

_The situation with Draco's mother will be explained in later chapters. Review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	7. The Secretive Nature of a Troubled Soul

**Special Thanks To**: FF Reviewers: Rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, PlzNsertSN, chibixholic, Sethian, CrAzYLoOn, Kairi099, dress up romance xx, Drays girl, D.G Cory, Slash-Lover, fiona's flames, TastuKitty, MoonBlaDeR, Aurilia (x6), 0mrsprongs0, scars07, Meg Finn, slashysecrets, xxbabysparklesxx, Heartbrokenalloveragain, anna may, Goldensong, DW Fanatic, Nisha, i v o r y . w i n g s, and AznEyes!

HP Fandom Reviewers: terralynn, aphrodis, antipyro, ciaran draco, and dedmun!

**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**Author's Note: **This is dedicated to those who are in situations similar to mine; living with extremely religious/homophobic parents who badger or preach to you whenever a gay person is mentioned or seen. This is dedicated to those who read/write slash or femmeslash with periodical glances over their shoulder, knowing friends and loved ones are watching, wary of your secretive nature. This is dedicated to those who, even knowing the all of the risks, still believe wholeheartedly in the right to be with whomever is chosen for a certain person, not matter the sexual orientation, and strongly enough to never give that belief up.

**Chapter Seven – The Secretive Nature of a Troubled Soul**

Harry was torn. But he was going to go a step further to emphasize how he really felt.

Harry was ripped to pieces. Harry was decimated, his atoms scattered to the four winds.

Harry was feeling ecstatic, disgusted, jealous, furious, and apprehensive all at the same time.

And not necessarily in that order.

Harry was losing his _goddamn _mind.

He had been standing in the same spot like a statue for the last ten minutes, staring at the exit door where a powerful leg had closed it shut, and was even beginning to garner stares with the ever-changing expressions on his face. How the _fuck _did this happen? One moment he was running like a madman – again – away from Ron, Seamus, and Dean to keep his bag from being searched, and the next he was sharing his beloved candy with Draco Malfoy, trying not to climax from their second brush of skin, and laughing at the hilarity that was Draco carrying Parkinson out of the Arthurian.

Oh, and of course the fact that _Pansy Parkinson_ caught Harry mid-stare at Draco's precious posterior shan't be forgotten, either. Being the complete and utter idiot he knew himself to be, he lost control with both of them still in the room. He hadn't even screwed up enough of that 'Gryffindor Courage' to come out to his friends, and now Parkinson, Goddess of Gossip for the Slytherins knew that he, at the bare minimum, lusted for Malfoy?

Bloody hell!

No wonder apprehension was gnawing away at his insides.

With a depressed 'Merlin!' muttered and a hand on his forehead, Harry slowly sunk to the ground, his legs stretched out on either side to form a 'W' of sorts with his lean frame. He leaned shaking arms onto the tops of his knees; his blushing countenance soon became buried in the cradle of his hands. The stares grew, but soon lost interest when he moved no more.

Harry was beginning to see the colorful circles of light from pressing one's eyes too hard against a surface, but he didn't care. All he felt was dread at the times to come, for he knew for a fact that Parkinson couldn't, and wouldn't, keep the observation to herself.

And jealously. A raw, all consuming jealously at the fact that the girl got to be forcibly carried out by the gorgeous Draco. What he would give to be in that position – body vulnerably balanced over a broad shoulder, face near his ass, groin pressed flush against his built chest…

Was he shaking because of the dread or the lust?

"Harry?"

Neither. He was shaking because of the paralyzing fear that struck him faster than the speed of light.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Clutching the satchel still slung over his tense shoulder, Harry looked up from his place on the floor to see a concerned Hermione making her way towards him. His eyes widened; any closer and she would be able to see just how 'troubled' he was!

_I have to get out of here!_ he thought as he scrambled off of the floor. Hermione was suddenly in front of him. "What's the matter? You've looked like you've seen a Dementor!"

_I can't leave her here…_

"I'll be back!"

Harry sprinted for the fourth time that day.

---

He couldn't be near such an intelligent girl without her finding out exactly what was the matter with him. It was the very reason why he fled to the fourth floor of the Diagon Alley Arthurian; every inch of the barely used space was for clandestine meetings and important rendezvous'. After thoroughly checking the area for any meetings, Harry settled himself at a closed off workstation, threw his satchel on its dusty surface, and grabbed blindly at the writing utensils that littered the bottom of the bag. His hands shook; his breath was labored. Images – vivid, full-color, high _definition_ type of images – were crowding his brain, jumbling his thoughts/hopes/dreams/fears—twisting them into something entirely new, something strange, something…forbidden.

Wanted, but forbidden.

And certainly unrequited.

He suddenly found himself unable to picture _any _aspect of his life without Draco Malfoy. The most random thought could somehow be connected to the boy in a positive way. It wasn't about lust anymore. It was about lo—

_Don't even think about it, Potter._

Abandoning the act of thinking, since it only served to harm his well-being as opposed to help, Harry dipped the familiar quill in his green ink and began to write. He was trying something new – dark, but realistic. A bit of romance, but with a kinkiness factor. And he thought of the perfect title.

_Drunken Debauchery_

_Hooray._

_Voldemort was defeated. Harry Potter saved us all. No more Death Eaters. No more killings. No more evil. Our world has been saved._

_If he heard those phrases one more time, he was liable to end up in Azkaban for murdering the screaming fans around him, starting with the women and children. He was no hero. He was not powerful. He sliced off Voldemort's head with a dagger and a satisfied, yet fanatical look on his face._

_In terms of magic, he should have lost; he should have died when Voldemort, once again, aimed the killing curse right at his prone, battered body, and he should have died when the curse, once again, hit its target dead on. _

_How was he living today? How was he relatively free of any physical scarring, even after having the killing curse hit him at full power and without a loving mother to rebound the attack?_

_A forbidden love._

_A small shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, after the encounter was over and he recovered, that the person **he** was madly in love with would put their differences aside to have him._

_Ha. _

_As if that was going to happen…ever._

_Now that the battle was over, he had no more need for his Gryffindorish courage, nor the need to be reckless and act before thinking. He was going to listen to his Slytherin side: logic over emotion, calm observation over foolish bravery…_

_Realism over optimism._

_Cradling his Infe - a clever mixture of Firewhiskey, red wine, wolf's blood, and lime - Harry stumbled through the throngs of celebrating people with disgusted amusement. He wanted to laugh at their blissful ignorance - their misplaced joy. He wanted to show them of the struggle and the heartache that came along with the defeat and see if they would be making fools of themselves after they saw._

_He downed the rest of his Infe, savoring the trail of fire in its wake and the shocking frost afterwards. An automatic refill made him chuckle briefly, and with another huge gulp of the liquid, he burst into the nearest empty house and put up a strong silencing charm to block the incessant noise. _

_At least he thought it was empty._

_Before his eyes was Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Spy Extraordinaire sprawled across an overstuffed armchair with an empty bottle of Infe clutched in his hands. He stared unseeingly at a point above the fireplace until a sound - Harry unceremoniously dropping onto the couch - shifted the glazed gaze over to Harry. "Potter."_

_Harry looked at Draco by tilting his head all the way back because of his strange positioning and grinned drunkenly. "Mal of the Foy."_

_Despite his forlorn mood, Draco found himself chuckling at the sheer ridiculousness of Harry's greeting. It made the other boy laugh as well, until he took a break to down the rest of the Infe, which ended up leading to an uncomfortable silence. _

_The room seemed to rise in temperature as the time went by. In his hazy mind, the thought 'strip' managed to filter through, and he began to wrestle with the tight T-shirt he had on under his robes. He accomplished his goal minutes later, and only then did he realize - and with Ill-veiled glee - that he had a delectable audience. Darkened silver eyes were locked on his form; they raked over his body without a hint of repentance or shame. He found himself not caring that they were on his form._

_One step further - he found him needing to have the other boy's gaze on him._

"_Stand up Potter."_

_The husky command made Harry struggle to his feet without the slightest hesitation, albeit swaying drunkenly side-to-side. _

"_Let me help."_

_At first, Harry was confused as to what he was referring to, but realization struck as the taller boy pressed flush against Harry's backside, hands moving to situate themselves on his slender hips. Slowly, steadily, they slithered to the front of his jeans, and one hand pulled at the button while the other traced idle, drunken circles on his inner thigh. He moaned loudly, feeling the other boy tense at the sound, and pressed wantonly against the taunt body behind him._

_Draco growled, and Harry knew then that his moan caused whatever self-restraint Draco had in those moments to snap._

_Strong hands grabbed both of his arms, swiveled him around, and slammed him against the back of an armchair, causing him to take in a startled gasp of air and look behind him. His hips were pulled backward, and a whispered spell shredded his tight jeans into frayed slices of fabric. It was so arousing, so rough, so devilishly deviant…_

_He wanted more. He **needed **more of this rough treatment._

_Draco Malfoy didn't give a fuck that he was Savior of the Wizarding World – that he was this supposed untouchable being who deserved to be worshipped and adored. From the way he carelessly grabbed Harry's drink, coated his fingers and cock with the sticky substance, then plunged roughly into Harry, he really didn't give a fuck at all. And Harry loved it. _

_Loved him._

"Draco!"

Harry doubled over. The quill in his hand was precariously close to snapping, and inkpot was dangerously close to the edge of the table, but he found himself not caring if it snapped or if ink saturated the floor. His body shook with violent tremors, trousers soiled in the aftermath of the vivid images, puffs of breath long, deep, and shaky.

Boy, did he feel **good**!

"Harry!"

Hermione ran over to his corner of the room with a frown on her face and her hands on her hips. Harry vaguely recognized it as the what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you stance, but didn't particular care. He was quite positive he hadn't come down from the post-orgasmic high yet.

"Harry, what is the matter with you? And why are you grinning like that? You look drunk!"

Harry blushed faintly as he muttered '_Scourgify'_ under his breath. "I'm fine, 'Mione. I was just a bit…tense…and needed to cool off a bit before I talked to you. "

He began to systematically pack his writing utensils in his satchel, aware of curious looks from his best friend, yet ignoring them. An uncomfortable silence hung between them until he finished his packing and swung the bag over his shoulders, looking for all the world like a well-fed cat who was ready for a nap. He turned to head out the door.

"Why are you so secretive, Harry?"

He could hear the distress in her voice. "Why won't you tell us what has become such an important part of your life? You're always sneaking around, looking over your shoulder, closing the hangings around your bed and sealing them with locking spells. What could you be doing that is so bad that you won't tell your best friends? Your…adopted brother and sister."

Harry could feel himself cracking, wanting to give into the pressure of the powerful persuasion and just spill his guts about everything; his passion for writing these novels, the joy he gets when he receives feedback, how his love for Draco fuels the fire. He wanted to, and one day he would, but it was too soon. He had just come to terms with the fact that he _was_ in love with Draco Malfoy about eight minutes ago. Could the girl give him a break?

"Soon, Hermione," was his only reply.

"But _Harry—"_

The soft, peaceful smile he gave her made her snap her mouth shut in awe and wonder. "Soon."

"I hear voices. They're probably in here."

The smile vanished.

He recognized that voice. The soft spoken, yet strong tenor of Draco's best friend, Blaise. His once number one enemy. If Blaise was here on the fourth floor, then that meant…!

"Good. Come along, 'Ansy," came the sharp, cutting drawl. "We don't want a repeat of what transpired downstairs, now do we?"

_Oh, damn it all to hell and back! Draco!_

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when the Slytherin Trio sauntered in, Draco in the middle as usual with Blaise and Pansy flanking both sides. The girl seemed a bit more sluggish in her movements, but also a lot closer to Draco than usual.

He fought the urge to growl.

"Hermione. Potter."

The god was greeting him. "Malfoy."

Harry couldn't help himself; he gave Draco his warmest smile. This was the third meeting he had had with the Slytherin that day, and the other boy had been nothing but civil to him, going a step further to even be friendly towards him.

Draco appeared to be even more startled than when they had their run-in at Honeydukes, which pleased him to no end. And, just like the time before, Draco returned the favor - although this time, it was a gentle smile that was heart-stopping in its softness.

If he didn't know what feelings he had towards Draco Malfoy then, he certainly knew now.

_I'm in love with him. Truly._

He felt like dancing!

"I wish we could say we came for other matters than business," Draco started, making Harry instantly divert his attention to him, "but alas, we did not."

"What's the problem, Draco?" Hermione inquired, walking to stand beside Draco rather closely.

_What the fuck?_ he thought angrily, jealously. Since when had their relationship been on a first name, friendly basis!

"It's nothing serious, 'Mione. Pansy here just tried to play a prank on Potter today, but I got there just in time to stop her."

Harry openly stared at Draco, mind tumbling like limp clothes in a Muggle dryer. 'Mione? He called her…'Mione?

Oh.

Oh…

Oh!

Fuck! When had that happened?

'Mione!

He hadn't realized he said it aloud until he noticed that the room was deadly silent. He was aware of the silver eyes locked on his form as if trying to read his inner thoughts, but he focused his attention on Hermione, who had the good grace to look _sheepish_ as she laughed softly. "He got into the habit of calling me that over the summer."

At Harry's puzzled look, Pansy chimed in bitterly, "Head Boy and Head Girl training."

It was the first time the auburn haired girl spoke since the meeting. Hermione noticed it too, for she locked eyes with the Slytherin girl with an unreadable expression on her face.

The staring contest was over with a clearing of the throat. "Anyways," Draco continued on with a tone that booked no argument. "Speaking of Head Boy and Head Girl, _as_ Head Boy, it is my responsibility that a…suitable punishment be issued out for the threat of harming another student.

"She is to apologize to you, Potter," Draco stated as he looked directly into Harry's eyes, "for bothering you."

Harry nodded slowly, not trusting his voice to speak when such heavenly eyes were gazing into his own, before breaking the stare with a blush and looking to Pansy. The raven-haired boy could practically taste that anger and humiliation coming off of her in waves, and for a brief minute, he felt pity for her. But there was something more to this situation than a mere prank – that he knew for sure.

"Sorry, Potter," was the nonchalant apology. She flipped her hair and swung out her hip as she did it, gaining a subtle body scan from Hermione and a swift scowl from Draco. A 'hmph' slipped out of candy pink lips, causing him to lick his own in desire, and a chuckle from Blaise caused him to look in the quiet boy's direction.

"I'll deal with you later," Draco all but hissed at the girl's impudence. Harry shivered.

"Well, we have to get going," Blaise stated a bit too cheerfully. "See you later, Potter, Hermione."

Hermione grabbed Draco's hands and held them there, looking up to him with a sly expression on her face. Draco returned the expression as he inched forward. The two just stared at each other a bit before bursting out into laughter, Hermione yanking his hands toward her to draw him into a tight embrace, which he wholeheartedly returned. He released her with a chuckle and turned for the door.

"I don't get a hug too, _Draco_?"

Silence.

_That's it. I'm officially declaring myself insane and checking into St. Mungo's as soon as bloody possible. _

What the _fuck_ was he thinking? He had to be masochist! Yea, that was it! There was no other way to describe why he would set himself up like – arms stretched out, pouting with his green eyes boring beseechingly into stunned silver – and still going through with it, even after recognizing that he was a complete, absolute, desperate, _jealous son of a bi—_

— and thenhe was swept up in those arms, cocooned in the embrace and cradled like a precious child, staring deep into those eyes. He was dipped low, set in a position that made him almost as vulnerable as he would if he were thrown over the god's shoulder, silver eyes piercing into his, alight with an indescribable fire, and his warmest smile adorning his face, softening some of the rough angles and slightly pointed features. And then that mouth was moving – brushing, caressing – along his cheek until it rested atop his earring and he said, "See ya later, _Harry." _

Tickling the sensitized flesh at the top of his ear.

Making him moan softly, but loudly enough so that Draco, sure enough, heard it.

Causing his heart to stop somewhere along this wild ride.

And then he was gone, walking out the door with the rest of his trio.

Harry stared at the door, unaware of Hermione's calculating stare until she spoke with the most warmth he'd gotten from her all this week.

"Excellent choice, Mr. Potter. 150 points to Gryffindor."

---

To Be Continued…

_I'll be going on vacation July 18 – July 25, but I'll try to write a chapter or two during that time to make up for the delay. Review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	8. The Monstrous Wrath of a Lovesick Leader

**Special Thanks To**: FF Reviewers: Kairi099, Rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, chibixholic, i v o r y . w i n g s, Faded Glitter, Slash-Lover, checkmarks, Meg Finn, TatsuKitty, Anux, assassin, D. G. Cory, MoonBlaDeR, DW Fanatic, Running-loose, Semma, RayneWolf, I miss the Rain, Goldensong, Teen Prodigy of Ravenclaw, MoonRae, Sakayora, shadowfoot, Towenaar, Kat Davi, AnimeFan-Artemis, and slashysecrets!

HP Fandom Reviewers: terralynn, Strife, ciaran draco, and Sestra!

**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**This story has, in no way, shape, or form, been affected because of Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince. It was always an AU, and always will be an AU.**

**Author's Note: **I am so happy - you have no idea how much your comments mean to me. My vacation was crap, but the day I got back, I had over sixty reviews in my inbox from all sites! Talk about a mood booster! Well, here's chapter eight, peoples. Enjoy!

**Chapter Eight – The Monstrous Wrath of a Lovesick Leader**

Excitedly. "He asked you for a hug!"

With calm observation. "And I don't think he was joking."

Blaise and Pansy both stopped and smiled brightly at their best friend, knowing just how much the small gesture from the Gryffindor meant to Draco. Or at least they thought they knew.

In truth, they had not a clue the depth of the happiness Draco felt then. They didn't know how he replayed the image of Harry's warm smile, or the image of the delicate blush that spread across Harry's face when Draco told him he was to be apologized to by Pansy. While they may know how he was replaying the scene of scooping the pouting Harry into his arms - into a startling gentle embrace as if holding the world's most precious cargo - they had no idea that he was replaying the sound of Harry's sharp intake of air when he was dipped, or the soft moan that slipped from those lips when he whispered into his ear. They had no idea that in that one embrace, it felt as if something _clicked _into place. Things were finally going his way; he didn't have to serve a madman, he had the best friends a bloke could ask for, he had amended things amongst the people he hurt the most during his early school years, his father was in love…

And he himself was in love.

With a slim chance of winning the love _of _his love, as opposed to the hopelessness he'd felt earlier in the day.

Draco tried to contain it; he really did. His Slytherin side began screaming in indignation while his – shudder – _Hufflepuff _side fought for dominance, fought for the chance to portray how he really felt about the whole situation, regardless of the Code of Slytherin and the Code of Malfoy.

His Hufflepuff side won, and as a result, it caused Pansy to gasp while openly gaping at him and Blaise to take a step back, his hazel eyes wide with something akin to awe in them.

Without the slightest hindrance, the corners of Draco's mouth had twitched upwards, growing in size until the upper line of his pearly white teeth shown in their brilliance. His silver eyes lit in a way that was indescribable, for no one had seen such passion and pure joy from the King of Slytherin, and his overall demeanor lightened, as if nothing else remotely mattered because this one event had taken place, and he had now gotten the one thing he was born for.

Draco finally did it. He had found a way to draw a reaction from his fellow Slytherins.

_FLASH!_

Startled out of the heart-stopping smile, Draco turned toward the flash of light to see Pansy still gaping, but apparently coherent enough to capture the once-in-a-lifetime event with her wizarding camera, pulled from Merlin-knows-where. It was so random, so unexpected that Draco blinked away the light circles dancing in front of his eyes before laughing a laugh that was as joyful as his smile. If possible, his face lit up even more with amusement and a carefree, nonchalance that had Pansy and Blaise gasping once more.

They thought angry Draco was enchanting.

_This _was nothing short of a heavenly vision.

_FLASH!_

"Will you cut that out, Pansy?" Draco scowled as he started walking down the hall once more. "You know how much I hate having my picture taken."

An added thought: "Unless I get paid for it. I am gorgeous, after all."

Pansy immediately fell against the taller boy's side and laughed loudly, reveling in having her Draco – the witty, sarcastic, generally carefree, greedy son of a bitch - back in action. Draco joined her in laughter as he slung an arm over her shoulder; the two then began to walk with a bounce in their synchronized step, gesticulating widely, smiles just as wide, atmosphere matching that of best friends.

There was one who lagged behind though, not immune to the happy atmosphere, but too immersed in his bewildered thoughts that he paid no heed to it.

When it came to the history of the Co-Kings of Slytherin and the Queen of Slytherin, most could say that the three of them knew each other right from the get-go, and had been inseparable ever since. For the most part, it was true, although a minor detail missing was that Draco and Blaise had been together first before Pansy joined in. During that time, and the time when Pansy joined and stuck with them, they had seen each other in their best times and their worst; the three had made it a point to, seeing that they had to deal with the no-emotion training from their Death Eater parents. Whether it is grinning goofily from an accomplishment/praise from their parents or crying with streams of snot dripping out of their nose from a punishment/lecture from their parents, they had shown one another.

But Blaise had never, _ever_, seen such a smile on Draco's face, and he had prided himself in knowing that Pansy or he himself made Draco smile the widest, act the goofiest, and be himself in the truest way.

It appears that he was wrong.

Before his eyes, Draco skipped and danced and jumped around in a cruel imitation of the scarecrow in the Muggle _Wizard of Oz, _shaking his head comically and making Pansy laugh harder than he ever had before. He could hear the witty remarks that seemed to be extra biting in their sarcasm, but less rough in their cruelty; he could see that smile on Draco's face once more, albeit twisting into more of an impish and mischievous smile; he could _taste_ the bliss filling the entire hall.

_Amazing. _

He wasn't sure if he should feel just as happy that his best friend got to be so content or jealous of Harry that he wasn't enough to make Draco smile and act the same way.

Or envious that he had never experienced such joy.

"'Aise!"

Blaise looked to the owner of the voice, who happened to be the same as the object of his thoughts. Draco was retying his ponytail – most likely from his vigorous head shaking – with a smirk on his face. Pansy was doubled over beside him, clutching her stomach and laughing so hard no sound came out of her mouth. "I have decided," Draco stated with exaggerated haughtiness, "that we are going to Lady J's for a drink. You will come, and you will like it whether you want to or not!"

He swiveled on his heel and exited, followed closely by Pansy who 'hmphed' just as haughtily, then giggled. Blaise stood alone in the empty hall before he too made his exit. He decided to be happy for Draco.

"Sir, yessir!"

---

Lady J's was indefinitely the most popular hang out spot for the Slytherins in Knockturn Alley. Not only were the drinks, the service, and the entertainment extraordinary, the owner of the bar was the most likeable person every customer would ever meet, and if the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors were brave enough to come down to her shop, they would easily see why.

Jaylairia Daire, or Lady J for short, was an exotic beauty in her early twenties from a quaint wizarding village in New Zealand, born there a few years after her parents moved from the United States. With a mixture of Japanese and African in her blood, wizards and witches in the area were baffled by her rich milk chocolate skin, long jet-black hair, petite yet curvaceous form, and soulful, dark slanted eyes. She was the most recognizable in this part of the wizarding world, more so than the Weasley's. But it was more that her physical appearance that made an impression on her customers.

She went to Hogwarts since first year and was an honorary Slytherin for her – what else? – unmitigated ambition. However, everything about her lacked subtlety, especially her firecracker type nature when provoked. She was the top of every class, became an Auror right after school, and has been working undercover ever since while doing the thing she loved to do most – entertain and provide places to take breaks from the everyday life.

Her work in the war last year was as vital as her boyfriend, Professor Snape's, spying; her bar was often the meeting place for several Death Eaters who wanted to trade information and get a good drink while doing it. She had captured many Death Eaters with her magic and her powers of persuasion and seduction, much to Professor Snape's dismay, and even kept tabs on where Lucius Malfoy was during his run from the bounty hunters. Every Slytherin portrayed her as the model Slytherin - a witch who didn't need to kill to get to the top.

As the Slytherin Trio walked into the bar, the entire staff, with yells and catcalls, instantly greeted them. The only one who didn't join in was Jaylairia herself, for she settled with a squeal of delight and a launch at the laughing teenagers. "Come in, come in," she greeted in that silky voice of hers. "Drinks are to be made, instruments to be played! Ladies, gentleman!"

The staff, which happened to be full of equally gorgeous men and women from around the world, cheered widely. They immediately cleared the best booth in the house. Pansy, Blaise, and Draco settled into their usual spots, but not without responded to the staff with cheers and greetings of their own, smiles wide on their faces. When they got situated, Lady J stood in front of them, pad of parchment and quill in hand. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite Slytherins!"

Leaning over, she gave Blaise and Draco a kiss right on the lips and a saucy wink, which they laughed heartily at. "Still love blokes," Draco said loudly as he eyed a particular waiter donned in tight black jeans and no shirt. The waiter shook his ass before strutting to his next table.

Lady J exaggerated a fake-cry on Blaise's shoulder, shaking her shoulders and letting out pathetic sniffles. She lifted her head once to cry out, 'oh merlin!' before resting it back on his shoulder. "Ladies, we have lost another!"

All the girls in the bar moaned grievously before dissolving into fits of laughter.

"Very funny," was the dry reply.

"Of course, darlin.' What about you, Blaise?"

"Sorry, Jay," the hazel eyed boy laughed out, "still love blokes."

Having had her greeting to the boys, Lady J glared at Blaise before sauntering over to Pansy's side of the table and sitting in her lap. "Pans."

"Jay-Jay."

Jaylairia leaned down and kissed her on the lips the same way she did the boys, except Pansy moved her arm to circle Lady J's neck to trap her in the kiss and deepened it with her tongue. Lady J allowed it for a few moments before she broke it apart and rested their foreheads together. "Naughty girl," she whispered breathily. The two had a brief relationship beginning of sixth year, despite being six years her senior. "What would Severus do if he saw such behavior?"

Blaise. "Fail her in Potions?"

Pansy. "Give me a detention every day 'till graduation? Hell, not allow me to graduate?"

Draco. "Wank in the corner of the bar?"

The staff, which had been eavesdropping shamelessly, laughed appreciatively at the dirty joke while Lady J let out a disbelieving giggle in shock and surprise. "Draco!" she scolded.

He shrugged – a smirk adorning his features.

"Anyways, where is 'Mione?"

The group got silent then, Pansy looking down to the floor, and Blaise shifting uncomfortably. "She couldn't join us today," Draco answered simply. Jaylairia sighed and looked to Pansy, who was staring stubbornly at the surface of the table, then planted a kiss on the crown of her head before getting up and standing before them. She left the subject closed. "Too bad. Well, since you fine folks decided to join us today, drinks are on me. The regulars?"

The three nodded.

"Good. And I must say, Draco, you are simply radiant today."

Draco meet her gaze with a beaming smile – the one he displayed earlier – and didn't blink an eye at the fact that she knew something wonderful happened to him. She was very much like Dumbledore; an omniscient being that gave advice in complicated riddles. She even had the damnable twinkle when she knew something you did not. He wondered if she knew that he had hugged Harry.

Harry Potter, sexiest superhero to save every sorry simpleton from certain doom.

And heard that moan...

Sweet Merlin, _that_ moan…the one that made him ready to let it all - a love confession as well as a couple of spurts of semen - loose after he had heard that motivating hybrid of a mewl and a gasp that was so delectably_ Harry…_

"Draco!"

"What?"

The twinkle in Jaylairia's eyes increased to blinding proportions. She said, "_nothing_" in a tone that stated she knew, then sauntered off to fetch the drinks. Draco became lost in thoughts of Harry until he heard a soft thud beside him, signaling that Blaise had propped an elbow on the table and was supporting his head with the cradle of his hand. He looked disturbed about something, Draco noticed with a bit of surprise, and though he was almost as good as Draco when it came to hiding his emotions, Draco could still see the inner battle within him.

_What's that about?_ he thought with curiosity. _I'm going to have to talk to him._

"I'm going to the loo," Draco stated as he got up from his seat. He saw Blaise eye him curiously and turned to him. "Let's go, Blaise."

After finger-combing her long auburn hair, Pansy raised as eyebrow at the two. "And I thought only _girls_ go to the loo together."

An evil smirk was the only response – Pansy shivered from it. "Be back in a few."

The two boys then headed to the back where Lady J directed them knowingly to a small meeting room just a few steps away from the bathroom. When Blaise began to turn into the bathroom, Draco grabbed his wrist, pulled him into the small room, and sat him down on a chair, choosing to lean against the table across from him. Blaise looked properly gobsmacked.

"Draco, what…"

"Something is wrong, Blaise. And I want to know what."

Blaise bowed his head then, bringing his bottom lip into his mouth and unconsciously chewing it. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"Draco..."

"Zabini."

Blaise looked up and sighed. Judging from the stern look on Draco's face, he wasn't going to leave this room until he told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Damnit!

"I was just thinking, is all."

"About?"

"…the way you reacted when Potter let you hug him."

Silence.

"You aren't…jealous, are you?"

Draco stared at Blaise, knowing that this was a crucial question to answer. He loved Blaise; there was no doubt about it. But there was nothing romantic about it anymore, not since last year. When he kissed Blaise, he felt nothing but lust. Blaise was easily the third most handsome bloke in the school – who wouldn't want him in the physical sense? He certainly did, even with loving Harry. But…wait?

"Or maybe…_envious_… is the word I should use?"

Blaise flinched.

_There. I got it._

Relieved, Draco leaned across the table, planted a chaste kiss on the corner of Blaise's mouth, then brought their foreheads together. "You will get your chance, Blaise, to experience the joy I felt today. I am completely sure of it. If Weasley cannot discover what a catch you are, then he is not worth your time or heartache. Understand?"

"But Draco—"

Draco put a finger to his mouth before kissing his forehead and smiling softly. "Understand?"

Merlin, did Blaise love Draco. This was the side that no one but he and Pansy got to see, the caring, yet demanding, no-nonsense-outta-you side that uplifted his spirits and made him truly believe in what he once thought to be impossible. Taking the fact that Draco took him aside to cheer him up to heart, Blaise let out his own beaming smile and answered, "ok!"

"Alright! Sulking on me like some poor, pathetic soul…ha!"

"What did you put in this drink, Jaylairia? Tell me! Tell me, damnit!"

Draco adorned his devil incarnate smirk and grabbed Blaise once more by the wrist to drag him out the room. "Show time."

"Sorry, sweetheart," came Lady J's silky voice, "Draco's orders."

"Fuck!"

"_Catella!"_

"Noo!"

A high yip sounded throughout the bar as the staff erupted into bouts of riotous laughter. The sound of paws on hardwood floors came closer to the boys who had stopped in the narrow hallway, Blaise frozen in place with a horrified expression on his face and Draco leaning against the wall with a satisfied look on his face. Soon, an auburn haired puppy with huge, watering spring green eyes came into view, clawing at Draco's trouser leg and howling piteously. Draco turned to Blaise, unruffled.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Blaise. Act like a bitch, get turned into one."

---

To Be Continued…

_Next chapter will be up shortly. Review!_

_-MercuryGoddess-_


	9. The Astonishing Past of a True Best Frie

**Special Thanks To**: FF Reviewers: shadowfoot, ElizabethMarieRose, Kairi099, RayneWolf, Slash-Lover, D.G Cory, 0mrsprongs0, MooNBlaDeR, Kat Davi, Paris Potter, Semma, TatsuKitty, Meg Finn, AznEyes, Ginevera, chibixholic, fiona's flames, checkmarks, itsasledgehammer, Freddysgurl8904, xxbabysparklesxx, placid wind, aphrodis, slashysecrets, Goldensong, Lady Slone, sanzo, Squifi, HdoBseSsIon, i v o r y . w i n g s, vibratojen, sakayora, and DW Fanatic!

**Disclaimer/Warning**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!

**This story has, in no way, shape, or form, been affected because of Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince. It was always an AU, and always will be an AU.**

**Author's Note: **I have an important note that I want you all to read, but I'm placing it at the end because I know you want to read the chapter first. The note doesn't apply to this chapter, so you're good to go! Oh, and this chapter is important so pay attention. Enjoy!

**Chapter Nine – The Astonishing Past of a True Best Friend**

"E-Excellent choice?"

"I believe that's what I said."

Harry had to sit down. It was too much – an indefinite information overload. Hermione was calling Malfoy _Draco; _Draco was calling Hermione _'Mione_; the two were hugging each other like close friends; he was insane enough to _plea _for a hug; he **got** the hug; and now, Hermione Granger was saying 'excellent choice' in reference to Draco Malfoy?

What the bloody hell is going on!

On the other hand…

Why _wouldn't_ Draco Malfoy be an excellent choice?

He was, by far, the most intelligent male wizard in the school, humorous, a natural born leader, a graceful, adept Seeker, and not to mention, abso-bloody-lutely gorgeous. When he wasn't sneering and his eyes aflame with negative emotions, Draco Malfoy, no matter how much a person disliked his nasty side, was the most delicious eye candy of them all.

Maybe Hermione realized this - maybe Hermione _knew _how much of a diamond in the rough Draco Malfoy really was, that being the primary reason why she said he was an excellent choice.

"I-I can't believe this." Harry collapsed into the nearest chair, staring at Hermione like she got a Muggle gender switch and changed her name to Herman. He couldn't figure out for the fucking life of him specifically why Hermione, once a Mudblood in Draco's eyes, would call said person an excellent choice, other than his half-baked theory of realizing the blonde boy's positive attributes. How exactly had Draco and Hermione's relationship got the way it was? Why did they act like lifelong best friends, like she was apart of the Slytherin Trio, even going as far as to transform it into the Slytherin Quartet?

What if…

What if she wanted him for herself, but also wanted to progress their relationship in the simplest of ways – through friendship?

That couldn't be it…could it?

Harry broke the stare, burying his face in his hands; shoulders sagged in a look of defeat. It would completely, utterly, _cripplingly _break his heart if the two of them all of a sudden took their relationship past the platonic stage. Although he knew for certain Draco once was together with Blaise, he still spotted Draco flirting with girls from all houses. He could easily get together with Hermione, and, not knowing Harry's feelings, hang around him with his new _girlfriend._

Bah.

Which brings up another point…

How the heck did Hermione know about his feelings for Draco in the first place?

"You really wear your heart on your sleeve, Harry, when it comes to love," Hermione stated simply, taking a chair from a nearby table and placing it in front of Harry, "and no, it wasn't the hug that gave your love for Draco away. It was the smile at the beginning of the conversation; the warmest smile I'd ever seen you give anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy."

Harry gazed at his best friend, silently wondering how she answered his nonverbal question, before letting out a deep sigh and dropping his head on the table with a thud. He was a bit extreme on the smile, wasn't he? If Hermione could figure it out, and Draco was just as intelligent, if not more, then he could figure it out too! But he couldn't help it; meeting his crush over and over in such a positive way caused such a tide of elation to rise up within him…

"No worries, Harry. Draco is as dense when it comes to emotions as you are. But I supposed he was raised that way…"

She trailed off pensively while Harry sat up with indignation and put his hands on his hips. "What's _that_ supposed to mean? And how the fuck do you know what I'm thinking?"

'Mione threw him a glance, ignoring the second part of the question. "If you don't know, then you've just proved my point."

She laughed at the huff Harry let out, but fought the urge to grin goofily for her two best friends. And yes, Draco Malfoy was one of her best friends. She saw the look of complete shock at the unexpected request, and she certainly saw the look of pure bliss that lingered on his face after he was walking away from Harry and herself. The two were in love with each other and didn't even know it!

_That's just like them, _she thought wistfully, _two of the most powerful boys in school can't figure out the obvious. Ha._

She would leave this bit of information to herself and let it progress at its natural course, but for now, "we need to talk."

Harry was just getting ready to say those four words to his best friend. He was desperately trying to figure out what she meant in that last statement – "_if you don't know, you've just proved my point." _­– but his mind kept wandering, jealously, to the relationship between Draco and Hermione.

He concluded that with everything that went on in sixth year – the war, the training, and the school work – he himself didn't really have time to have a social life, but Hermione managed to squeeze one in between school work and her own role in the war. Blaise, he noted with satisfaction, also called the girl Hermione. The only one who didn't was Pansy, but then again, she didn't directly address the Gryffindor girl either. Something must have happened between them.

Harry needed to know; he honestly did miss his 'Mione, and the fact that others got to be so close to her and enjoy her company extensively miffed him just a bit. While Ron was for chatting about insignificant things, Hermione was always, and always will be, his confidant. "Let's talk then."

While Hermione got herself situated, Harry took the time to examine the girl he'd known and been best friends with since his first year at Hogwarts. He noticed with shock that her chocolate brown hair reached about mid-back with not a single kink or curl in its many layers. Her lips were still thin, but not covered in any makeup or gloss, her entire face very much the same way. It suited her perfectly – the completely natural look. Many witches had adopted the habit of putting way too much Muggle makeup on their faces, making them look doll like. Hermione never liked makeup, Harry remembered, and he was glad that _that_ fact remained constant.

She was petite, but still had the presence of a full-grown, powerful woman. Curvaceous in fact, although Harry didn't know where _that _came from. She certainly didn't have that bosom last year.

Not that it affected him.

"You really are gorgeous, 'Mione," he whispered in awe. "How come I didn't notice this before?"

"Because you're blind as a bat and dumb as a doorknob!"

Green eyes widened comically so. "W-wha…!"

A smirk was his only response. "Just kidding!"

A stare was a counter response.

Her eyes had a mischievous light to them that wasn't there before either. She seemed a lot more carefree than she ever had been before, and it was bugging him that he couldn't figure out how and when she became this way. He was ready wholeheartedly for that talk now. "Should I go first?" he asked as she propped her legs up on the table.

_When has she ever done that? Merlin, so much has changed!_

"Actually no," she said leaning up a bit. "We all have secretive natures, but you've been a bit more obvious in yours so I'll go ahead and tell my story."

Harry shot her a glare. She shrugged.

"Besides, I'm sure you're just _dying_ to know how Draco and I are the way we are now, aren't you?"

He had to concede with that point, but still held his glare.

In a move that was nothing if Malfoy-esque, Hermione gave him a triumphant smirk in response before it melted into a sad smile. She started her tale with, "I wronged Draco Malfoy back in our sixth year, after a particular DADA class. But he allowed it, and in doing so, I got to see how Draco really works…"

_Flashback_

"_I have to talk to Professor Lupin, guys. Go on without me."_

_Hermione said the statement without her usual exuberance for academia, but with good reason. It was the beginning of the middle of sixth year, and already, she was overworked and under appreciated when it came to her research on wards with offensive properties. With the added stress of sixth year classes – classes that were preparation for NEWT level classes and hard times to come – Hermione was beginning to hate anything remotely educational. She had absolutely no fun; the students here at Hogwarts were so stressed and worried about their parents that even the most light-hearted conversation could be transformed into a serious discussion. _

_In fact, no one made an effort to **initiate **these so called "light-hearted" conversations anymore – everyone was treading on thin ice, some even falling through._

_Ron and Harry threw sympathetic if not pitying looks at her worse-for-wear form, before treading their worse-for-wear forms down to their next class. Hermione watched them disappear round the bend of the expansive hallway, sighing and too heading to her destination. However, the soft whispers of distance voices stopped her mere inches from the plain door sheltering the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom. _

_Through the sliver of an opening, Hermione spotted the telltale shock of blonde hair and the shabby, bland robes of her professor. But what she couldn't grasp was how the two bodies were crushed together in a tight embrace; how Malfoy's muffled statement caused Professor Lupin to laugh more genuinely than he ever had since his best mate Sirius Black died. She couldn't grasp the animation of Malfoy's wide gestures once the two broke apart either, and how his face just lit up with delight as he explained his ideas to Remus Lupin, a man who used to be nothing more than a dirty werewolf—_

—_and how Draco Malfoy was now standing in front of her, arms crossed but expression craftily blank. _

_The door was shut completely, and judging by their positioning in the vacant hallway, the two had moved back five paces away from the classroom entrance. Hermione froze, too stunned to speak, too bewildered to belittle the boy she thought she hated with every fiber of her being. It was like having a chained puppy bite you over and over, and you growing to hate it and stay away from it in response. But then you find one day that another has come along, freed the puppy, and began playing with it and you see the puppy with its tongue lolled out of its mouth and its big eyes filled with nothing but playfulness, a thing you thought the damn dog wasn't even capable of and you're baffled because…_

_Well, it bit you, and you, or so you thought, were a nice person to be around._

_And you stick around because it's too strange of a scene to comprehend what transpired._

_Her embarrassed gaze currently rested on the floor space between their bodies, albeit feeling the piercing silvery gaze on her form. As if moved by her personal venquilitrist, she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with Malfoy._

_Feeling herself, against her will and to her shame, attempting to plunge into the thoughts of Draco Malfoy through Legilimency. _

_It was one of her special talents; she was the top Legilimens like Harry was the top Seeker. The staff and Headmaster Dumbledore had agreed to start teaching the sixth years more advanced forms of magic; more specifically, Harry, Ron, and herself. On her first try, she broke past Harry's and Professor Snape's Occlumency shields, although the furious professor threw her out pretty roughly. _

_With a start, she realized - Malfoy was the top Occlumens of the school._

_She met the his powerful shields **– **more powerful than Harry's and Professor Snape's combined, she noted with surprise – with glee,ready to make her way out, but Malfoy once again stunned her into silence. _

_He brought down his shields entirely, flinging her into his emotions and the memories connected to them._

_She felt his relief when Remus announced with such conviction that he loved Lucius Malfoy._

_She felt his love for his best friends,' Pansy and Blaise, unwavering loyalty, standing by him through thick and thin, never showing him their doubts by gently, thoughtfully, helping half-baked schemes come into fruitation. _

_She felt his exhaustion at the continual mask of indifference he wore more often than a smile, wanting to show those not directly involved his struggle - his hard, yet unknown work to keep the Dark Lord at bay until Potter was ready._

_And she felt his anguish, still mourning the lost of a mother and still mourning the disappearance of a father on the run, who did what he did for the one thing he had left – his son._

_There were so many more emotions swirling deep with memories drifting by like a fast forwarded Muggle film, showing the stressful day, revealing the endless nights, presenting the rare moments of happiness and fun like pieces to be treasured…_

_And then she was thrown out – Malfoy obviously felt that she had seen enough. Had she disagreed with his decision, she would have merely forced herself back in, but for once, she wholeheartedly agreed to be let out and never allowed go back in again. _

_Collapsing with a wail, the brown-haired girl buried her face into her lap, body convulsing with sobs from the very depth of her being. There were so deep, so full of sorrow that no sound came out. She soon found herself unable to breathe._

"_Shush," came the quiet command. She was wrapped in his arms then, soft silky hair tickling her sweat-drenched forehead, and with a muttered "_Elanguesco," _he tightened his embrace as he ran his fingertips up and down her back. Hermione visibly relaxed in his arms from the spell, but unfortunately the tears did not stop and neither did her whispers._

"_I'm so sorry, so sorry, such an idiot to think- please forgive me please, oh merlin…"_

_The soft stride of Professor Lupin was not drowned out by Hermione's calls. He stopped a few feet from the scene, ready to find out exactly what happened, but Draco turned to him and fixed him with a look that said, _"later, I'll tell you later."

_Respecting the wishes of his love's son, Remus backed away and watched with wide eyes as Draco wiped the tears from Hermione's face and said, "Your words mean nothing to me."_

_Hermione immediately wrenched herself from his embrace, feeling every bit of an idiot for allowing Draco Malfoy of all blokes to see her in such a state—_

"_I know you Gryffindors have a habit of forgiving everyone who mutters a half-hearted apology," he started, seemingly unsurprised by Hermione's reaction, "but as a Slytherin, and the King at that, I need to see hardcore proof."_

_Draco then smiled warmly at her, and once more, Hermione found herself stunned into silence. "Action, Hermione. Action."_

_End Flashback_

Harry didn't know what to say. How was he to respond to such a powerful story, a true learning experience that rose Hermione's already high maturity level? He vaguely remembered that day – he remembered Remus asking Draco to stay after, but had no clue that such an important event happened at that moment. He almost wished he had agreed to stay with Hermione that day. Maybe his relationship with Draco would be at their level, if not more, as well.

Hermione was lost in reminisce, no doubt reliving all the good times she had had with the Slytherin, so Harry took the time to do some thinking himself. 'Mione hit the nail on the head when she said she had wronged Draco. No matter how unpleasant the boy had been in the past, that was no excuse to try to break into the mind of another student without having proper permission to do so. She could have easily been expelled, had the wartime laws not kicked in during the course of the year.

From what she told him, Draco was the best Occlumens in the school – he could have, without the slightest bit of trouble, kept her from seeing his memories and emotions. But he allowed her too; he granted her permission to peruse the inner workings of his mind to make her understand. It must have been something he was planning to do in the near future; Hermione's unconscious prying only jumpstarted the plan.

Harry was truly amazed. Once again, the thought of Draco Malfoy filled him with a surprised delight. Boys were often said to be simple beings, and for the most part, it was true. Take Ron for example. But Draco was a complex being, and Harry loved puzzles.

He was sure that there was more unexplored terrain concerning the blonde Slytherin; oh, how he couldn't wait to figure him all out.

"Harry?"

Hermione was gazing at him. From the looks of it, she had been for quite sometime while Harry was lost in thoughts of Draco. He focused on her. "Yea?"

"If there is some chance that you do get together with Draco, I just want you to know that you have my **full** support! He is such a wonderful person, Harry. Can he be a snarky git? Yes. Can he be a complete arsehole? Yes. But so can we, and you bloody well know it. I can be a bitch sometimes and you can be an arse sometimes so what does it matter? When you get to know him, his positive attributes far outweigh the negative."

Harry was so happy that he had her support so wholeheartedly that he leapt from his seat and brought her into a bone-crushing hug, which she returned with laughter. She rocked them from side to side before letting him go and planting a chaste kiss on his forehead and lips. "You have amazing taste, Harry. You really do."

Laughing more freely than he ever had in months, Harry nodded with a smirk and responded, "Of course!"

"So you know that if you hurt him, I'll have to kill you."

"Yes, I know. But trust me, 'Mione, I'd never do anything intentional to hurt him. He's just so…I can't even describe it."

He did his patented happy dance - a quick gyrate of slender hips and a seductive shake of lean shoulders - for good measure before collapsing in Hermione's lap and kissing the crown her head.

Silence.

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Draco Malfoy is like a multi-layered dessert."

A raise of eyebrows.

"Delicious all the way through."

---

To Be Continued…

_**Important Note! Please Read**!_

_When I think of this story, I think of it as a romantic dramedy – romance/comedy/drama. You've gotten splashes of romance and a bucket of comedy, but only a few drops of drama have been added in the mix so far and that is about to change. _

_Chapter Ten is the pivotal moment for this story. No worries! I'm not going to change the way it has been going for anyone! But after chapter ten (which is the last chapter set on Hogsmeade Saturday) there is going to be progression on time, friendships (the joining of the two Triumvirates), and of course, relationships, particularly our star couple. This isn't a story were I promise one thing then all of a sudden come up with another random idea and trash the promise I made. Harry and Draco **will** be together – sooner or later than you think. _

_(insert evil laugh here)_

_I'm really happy you guys are liking this story as much as I enjoy writing it, so there are a few things I'm going to let you know about me to help you understand why I write this story the way I do._

_MercuryGoddess' Top Six Loves. And One Hate_

_1) **I love Draco Malfoy – **Pure and simple, he is the love of my life. I'm so sick of Wimpy!Draco, Girly!Draco, and All-The-Time-Arse!Draco so I will make my Draco as likeable as possible without making him become completely OOC._

_2) **I love Slytherins in general, particularly Pansy and Blaise – **Again, the whole Evil!Slytherin thing annoys the hell out of me. I'm also sick of Smart!Crabbe & Smart!Goyle. So I stick with Pansy and Blaise since they have more depth and also have the capabilities of thugs. Ha, at least I think so!_

_3) **I love the Golden Trio, particularly Hermione Granger when she isn't portrayed as an anal retentive know-it-all, but I hate Ginny Weasley – **Hey, who reads Harry Potter books and doesn't have some measure of like towards the three? Harry is runner up for being the love of my life, Ron can be a good character if an author doesn't completely screw up the characterization, and Hermione is…well, an honorary Slytherin in my opinion. Weaselette Fans – she's not in this story. At. All. I won't mention her if I can help it, I hate her so much._

_4) **I love OC's; original characters/original content** – What can I say? I like making stuff up. Prepare for new items, people, and magic. Warning here._

_5) **I love flashbacks** – I always thought they were cool and have become obsessed with them. I like to retell the past that way instead of someone monotonously saying it to another person. Prepare for those too._

_6) **I love the LBG (Lesbian/Bisexual/Gay) community! **– There are grotty heteroes in this story…they're just not important…haha!_

_Well folks, it's been fun. Stay tuned for the next episode of Of Spilled Ink and Crumpled Parchment! _

_-MercuryGoddess-_


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